Starstruck
by arrow-through-my-writers-block
Summary: Celebrity AU. Felicity Smoak doesn't expect much from the mixed panel she attends at Comic-Con to help promote season three of her hit tv show. But, then again, no one informed her that mega movie star Oliver Queen would also be part of the panel. And she definitely didn't expect a friendship to form between them.
1. Introductions

_Author's Note: HEY GUYS! Sorry I haven't been posting anything! I mean, I have been posting things, but they have been elsewhere on the internets. ;) So I am slowly going to be transferring fics over here for your reading pleasure! Starting with this lovely AU! Enjoy! And don't forget to review!_

* * *

 **Chapter One - Introductions**

Felicity Smoak stands nervously backstage, waiting for the panel to begin. She's the first celebrity to arrive and she's been unable to learn who else will be in attendance for this mixed panel. She fidgets with her dress, smoothing out the wrinkles and making sure the hem is at a decent length. Volunteers dash back and forth, checking camera feeds and microphones, making sure everything is ready and up to Comic-Con standards.

Slowly the other stars begin to arrive, some she's met and others she hasn't. She says hello and exchanges pleasantries. Everyone chats about upcoming films or television seasons, being supportive of their craft. A few moments before the panel moderator is set to take the stage, everyone begins gasping. Stars she might never have assumed to be the type to become starstruck suddenly begin swooning, making her feel a new wave of nervousness.

She follows their gaze to find the biggest movie star of their current generation, heartthrob and overall hunk, the man you wanna be in a love scene with: Oliver Queen. No one goes to say hi. No one moves from their positions. Felicity watches as he stands confidently in a corner, waiting to be told where to go. She admires his broad shoulders and perfectly stubbled chin. And his eyes. Blue. Perfect blue.

"All right. Here's the line-up according to the place-cards on the table, everyone. Line up as I say."

The volunteer reads off the list of panelist and they all begin to form a line in preparation for the introductions. The last two names recited are hers and Oliver Queen's. She takes a deep breath and falls into line beside him. He glances down at her, then does a double-take.

"Wait… Felicity Smoak… __The__ Felicity Smoak…?"

She looks up at him, surprised. "Yeah…?"

He laughs excitedly. "I love your show!"

Her mouth drops open and she almost can't bring her words out. "Y-you know my show? You watch my show? A huge movie star like you watches my little CW TV show? Are you kidding? I mean… you seem like the type of guy who would only watch sports and action flicks… Not that there's anything wrong with that! I mean… you're such a big name. Silly television shows don't seem like your thing… Ugh. I need to shut up now."

He smiles, a genuine one that makes her feel less ridiculous. "I'm a huge fan of yours. I've always wanted to meet you but I've never gotten the chance!" He extends a hand and winks. "My name's Oliver Queen."

She takes his hand in hers and instantly can't contain her giggles. "Felicity Smoak…" she chokes out between her fangirling. "Pleasure to meet you! Now let's kick this panel's ass!"

Out on stage, the moderator is introducing himself and the purpose of the panel, getting laughs and cheers from the audience with each hint he gives. Felicity fidgets once more with her dress, straightening out a newly discovered wrinkle. Beside her, Oliver Queen chuckles. "You look great," he mumbles as the first panelist is called out to be met with lengthy applause. One by one, the next six panelists are introduced and met with the same excitement.

"T-thanks," she stammers, silently cursing herself for not being more put together and confident in the way most people assume celebrities are. But Oliver Queen seems to find it... endearing.

"...and next up we have the perfect girl next door with a deep dark, crime-fighting secret... Felicity Smoak!"

She puts on a smile, sends a little prayer out into the universe in the hopes she won't trip and begins to walk out onto the stage. Behind her, Oliver whispers an adorable encouragement that sounds to sexy. As if it came out of one of his films. Her cheeks grow warm with the thought. The lights hit her and she's instantly transported away from the darkness backstage and brought into the world of stardom. Fans cheer, applaud and shout out marriage proposals... the usual embarrassing stuff she never gets tired of. She loves her fans. She loves her job.

As she takes a seat and the crowd quiets to a persistent murmur, she looks at the empty seat beside her, at the very end of the table. There's no nameplate by the microphone that her and Oliver will share, and she now knows that his appearance is a complete surprise for the audience. She grins.

"...and last... the surprise all of you have been speculating about. The man of the hour, the man that makes every woman weak at the knees and every man wish he could be as perfectly toned. The one. The only. __Oliver Queen__!"

The audience goes insane. The marriage proposals triple, sent out by men and women alike. Oliver steps out, feigning nervousness, but Felicity can tell just how much he loves the attention. He catches her gaze and winks like he did before. The moderator was completely right about the weak knees thing. Every woman in the hall must be feeling it and Oliver Queen knows it. When he arrives at his seat, he digs a nameplate out of his back pocket and places it in front of him, then leans over toward the mic. "You know... In case you have no idea who I am."

The moderator laughs. "That's not likely, buddy."

The panelists get situated, taking sips of water and then the questions rapidly begin. Each one receives one directed specifically at them regarding whatever new project they are promoting. The answers are thoughtful, most of them rehearsed and all of them completely spoiler-free. When the time comes for Felicity to speak, she listens intently to the question, not wanting any word-vomit to overflow and take up valuable panel time.

"So, Felicity," the moderator begins, glancing down at his notes. "Your character went through some really intense development last season. How will this impact her going into season three?"

Felicity gulps down her nerves and smiles. "Well," she murmurs, leaning into the mic and catching the godlike scent of Oliver's cologne. "First I have to ask... How many of you have seen the season two finale?" The hall erupts into screams and cries, many of them containing crucial plot twists that shocked the fandom. "Okay... Good. Well, I'd say all the drama really established my character as a strong woman. I mean, we've always known she was strong intellectually. But I think in the first season she appeared very emotionally fragile. Last season we really worked to establish her potential as a true cyber vigilante. And all I can say about season three is that she will kick major ass... 'cause, remember... She's a bitch with wifi, and she's not afraid to use it."

More screams and cheers erupt, causing her to feel great pride in herself and her answers. Leaning back, away from the mic, she whispers: "No word-vomit! Win!" Beside her, Oliver chokes on a gulp of water. He turns to her and laughs once his mini coughing fit passes. "Sorry," she mouths to him, and he waves off the apology with a shaky smile.

"Well... Oliver Queen," the moderator says before being drowned out by the audience. "Geez, guys! Settle down!" The hall quiets and the moderator nods as he goes over his notes once again. "You've been in some major blockbusters recently... big action films, a superhero flick. All very physically demanding work. What made you decide to put the big studio productions aside and try your hand at the indie genre?"

Felicity frowns. The question comes off slightly negative, as if such serious pursuits are beneath an actor like Oliver. She glances over at him and can tell he's feeling the same way. His hands are balled into fists beneath the table as he considers his answer. His brows are furrowed as he leans awkwardly forward and says, "I wanted to try something new."

The simplicity of his words brings a rumbling murmur up from the crowd and everyone on the panel goes stiff.

The moderator chuckles, clearly uncomfortable. "Some might say you're heading down the road of Ryan Gosling, with all his indie works over the past few years. Is that what you're going for?"

Oliver shakes his head. "I'm not really going for anything, specifically. I've hit a point in my career that I feel like putting serious thought into the stories and characters I choose to bring to life. As fun as it is to run around in a superhero costume or film a fight scene with the likes of Sylvester Stallone, I'd really like to bring my acting to the next level and do something that truly means something to me emotionally. And hey, if I can remain as popular as Ryan Gosling, it's a win-win."

The crowd cheers and then the panel continues. The moderator is off-kilter after Oliver's answer, but remains peppy for the sake of the show. The final question before opening the floor for fans is the one everyone knew was coming: "All right. Let's go down the line. Who on this panel would you like to work with?"

The audience is dead-silent. No one laughs. No one speaks. Somewhere in the back of the hall a phone goes off, but no one goes to scold the person for their bad manners.

Every other panelist answers that they'd love to work with Oliver Queen. When it comes to Felicity, she follows suit. "I'd be crazy to say anyone other than this guy." She nudges him playfully and he smiles down at her, clearly flattered.

Oliver chuckles into the microphone and everyone hold their breath. He glances toward Felicity and says: "I'd love you work with Felicity Smoak. Is there any way I could make a guest appearance on your show?"

She gawks at him, shocked. As the audience reacts, she shakes herself out of her stupefied silence and says: "I'll see what I can do..."

* * *

The panel is over. Photo ops are done and the panelists are congregating backstage, chatting and milling around as the next collection of celebrities gather. No one speaks to Oliver Queen, and he doesn't seem to care. Felicity watches him from her spot in a circle of women talking about some of the cosplayers they've seen throughout their time at the con. He's watching her as well, sending odd somersaults through her stomach and more flush to her cheeks. Finally she works up the courage to confront him.

"So," she says, drawing the word out as she comes to stand in front of him. She looks up at him and can't help but marvel at how gorgeous he is. It's no wonder he was cast as a Greek god. "Were to serious?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Serious about what?"

"About wanting to work with me..."

He nods. "Oh yes. Like I said before, I love your show. If there's any way I could cameo or something, I'd love to."

She laughs a little, unsure how to let him know the unfortunate truth. "Oliver, as awesome as it'd be to have you for an episode, I highly doubt our measly production can afford you." She looks up at him through her lashes. "Not that you're expensive or high maintenance or anything. But you _ _are__ high profile and I don't think-"

"I'd do it for free. Just to do it."

Her mouth drops for a moment before she blurts out: "No agent or manager would ever allow their talent to work for free... on anything."

He leans in, hiding his mouth behind his hand as if he's going to indulge her with a really juicy piece of gossip. "I have my manager wrapped around my finger." He lets loose another wink, turning her knees momentarily to jelly.

"Ah, well... I guess I will see what I can do." She looks around and finds her family peeking in through one of the exits. She smiles and waves them away. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Oliver Queen. I hope to see you again soon." She holds out her hand and he takes it gently into his. The size difference is baffling, but somehow it feels right. They fit together well despite having only just met. The idea makes Felicity feel giddy and on the verge of fangirling.

"I know we will..." he replies, letting her hand go and walking away toward a bodyguard hiding in the shadows.

Once he is out of earshot, Felicity closes her eyes, a new wave of shock running over her. "Oliver Queen wants to work with __me__?"


	2. A Few Too Many

Felicity keeps a low profile at the convention, nervous about attracting too much attention. She waits for major panels to be underway before adventuring into the vendor's hall to explore, hoping the crowds are thinner and less perceptive. She winds her way through the rows of booths, stopping to gawk at the exclusive products and limited edition collectibles. She admires the intricate displays at major studio booths... Marvel has statues of their most anticipated new villains and screens running trailers on a loop. Lionsgate and Summit have their newest young adult adaptation stamped all over their booth, leaving little room for their indie films, of which Felicity starred in a supporting role of one. She sighs. _ _There's a reason studios cast stars like Oliver Queen and make blockbusters...__

She's made her way to the back of the hall, finding secluded booths with unknown artists, authors and other creators. She peruses an indie comic book vendor, gathering a few titles in her arms that seem worthwhile. She goes to pay, finding the college-age, bespectacled cashier trembling as she rings up the issues.

"You're... __Felicity Smoak__ , right?" The cashier leans in and whispers her name discreetly, much to Felicity's approval. There aren't a lot of shoppers around, but the consideration this girl shows for Felicity's privacy is beyond what most fans might have shown.

Felicity nods, smiling. "Yes."

The girls giggles and turns around. She looks to make sure no one is paying attention, then digs out a small object from under the table. "No one ever comes around here," she says as she faces Felicity once more. "I know it is unprofessional of me -not to mention against the rules for vendors- but can you sign this for me?" She hold up a mass market paperback. A novelization of the first season of Felicity's show. It is worn and clearly a favorite. The girl opens up to the title page and Felicity sees signatures from other cast members.

"Of course I can sign it! Got a pen?"

The girl nods enthusiastically and pulls out a red pen; the same red pen Felicity's character always has tucked behind her ear in intense hacking scenes. Felicity blushes and signs her name with a flourish, then leaves a little smiley face beside it -her usual personal touch. She hands it back to the girl. "Here ya go. By the way, I love your glasses." She points to her own with a smile.

"They are so much more comfortable than others, right?"

Felicity nods. "They rarely fall down your nose!"

They nod and giggle, then she continues to ring up the comics. With a few more comments and a quick goodbye, Felicity leaves the booth, her heart warm. She loves fan encounters, but loves the spontaneous personal ones the most. She glances down at her __Betsey Johnson__ watch and feels a wave of panic. "Press junket in five minutes, Smoak! Move your ass!" she hisses as she starts running to the nearest exit.

She rushes through a hallway lined with small rooms marked for press interviews. She glances at each sign, looking for one displaying her show's logo. The hallway feels endless and her feet are starting to ache. __Why do I always choose to wear heels!?__ She finally catches sight of her room and comes to halt by the door, breathing heavily and feeling a slight hint of sweat on her brow. __I really need to work out more often... or lay off the mint chip... or both. Probably both.__ She allows her breathing to level out and her heart to slow from its rapid pace before entering the room. Her fellow cast members are seated next to the producers at small round tables scattered around the room.

Felicity finds her seat next to Roy Harper just as they open the door for the journalists. He gives her a little nudge. "Where the hell were you?"

She holds up the bag of comics before hiding it under the table. "Shopping," she murmurs. She smooths out the wrinkles, straightens her necklace and takes a deep breath as the first set interviewers take their seats. Everyone introduces themselves and then the questions start flying. Most are directed at the producers at first. __Thank goodness...__ Felicity thinks, leaning back in her chair in a way that is not professional. Roy looks over at her and frowns, letting out a disapproving cough. She sighs quietly and sits back up, the picture of perfect posture.

"Miss Smoak," one of the interviewers begins, turning her voice recorder in Felicity's direction. "The world is talking about your interaction with Oliver Queen at the mixed actors panel this morning. Have the two of you met previously?"

Felicity smiles politely, trying to hide her annoyance. "No. We haven't met previously."

"Do you think it's a possibility that he could guest star on the show? He seemed quite eager."

"I'm not really the one to ask about that," Felicity answers, then points to the producer on the other side of Roy. "I think you want to direct that question to that guy."

The interviewer turns her recorder back to the producer. "Is it a possibility?"

"As of now, I don't think so. But, we haven't started filming yet, so I can't really say for sure. I had no idea he was even a fan of the show. If there's any way we can get him on, that would be fantastic. But nothing has even been discussed."

The recorder turns back to Felicity. "Would you like to work with him?"

"I'd be crazy if I didn't," Felicity laughs, then folds her hands in front of her on the table. "But, of course, I think it'd be best to discuss the show and not the brilliance of Oliver Queen."

Felicity watches as the woman's eyes grow wide at the comment, then directs a few questions at Roy and the budding romance of their characters on the show. Felicity feels a sense of pride in herself. __If only you could handle more reporters like that, Smoak!__

* * *

After a couple hours, the press junket ends and Felicity stands, stretching her legs. Beside her, Roy leans forward in his seat to tie his custom red and black __Converse__. She clears her throat, causing him to look up at her. "Yes?"

"So," she begins excitedly. "I was thinking about heading up to Old Town for some Mexican food and awesome tequila. Cheap margaritas all over the place! Wanna join?"

He stands and they make their way out of the room and back out to the endless hallway of high heels hell. "You were gonna go there alone?"

"I assumed you'd join me no matter what."

He laughs. "Well, I wouldn't miss out on the tequila," he says, then nods. "Of course I'll join. What time?"

"How about six?"

" _ _Six__ for what?" a voice asks, and Felicity stops dead in her tracks. __How does this keep happening!?__

She spins around awkwardly to find Oliver Queen standing an almost inappropriately close distance for her, smirking. His expression sends of wave of nerves through her and she can feel the word-vomit that could have escaped her at the panel bubbling up. She gulps it down before speaking. "We're going to Old Town for some food and margaritas later."

He looks down at her and she can sense his desperate need to feel normal. "Can I join?" he asks, his eyes almost begging, hopeful. She has to look away before his blue gaze crushes her. Knowing a minimal amount about him, she assumes people rarely reject or deny him. Coming from a rich family and being the heir to a Fortune 500 company implies a lavish life with very little to worry about. __He can't know what it's like to be told 'no.'__ She wonders what it might be like to tell him no; something tells her it might be satisfying and then instantly something she will regret.

She looks back up at his eyes still boring into her and she starts feeling really giddy and lightheaded. __Stop it, Smoak! Get it together!__ "If you wanna join us, meet us at the Old Town Tequila Factory at six."

With that, she leaves him there, waving goodbye to Roy as she walks away in a hurry.

* * *

She digs through her luggage, searching for a suitable outfit. Even though she had simply given Oliver Queen the option of joining them, she knows without a doubt that he'll be there waiting for them. She can sense it. And the disinterested manner of their exchange now feels like a flirty playing-hard-to-get that she hadn't intended. __Or did I?__ she wonders as she holds up a bright pink spaghetti strap top. She stands in front of the mirror, holding the top up against her. "Perfect!"

She pairs it with a pair of black skin-tight jeans, then starts rifling through the small collection of jewelry she brought with her. She finds a simple pair of drop earrings puts them on, admiring the small gemstones as they shimmer in the hotel room light. She tugs on the jeans, then slips the top on, smoothing the fabric against her chest and stomach to get the wrinkles out.

"Why does he even want to go?" she asks as she tosses aside lonely pairs of shoes in her search for a specific pair of wedge heels. Finally locating them, she puts them on and stands, enjoying the sensation of height. While she might be average height, compared to the rest of Hollywood, she was tiny. __Compared to Oliver Queen...__ she begins to think, then shakes her head. "Nope. Don't do it. Don't fantasize about a man who is clearly interested in working with you and might hang out with you and your friends..." She begins to pace, unable to keep images of Oliver Queen shirtless from her mind. "No! Stop it, Smoak! Ugh! I really need to stop talking to myself."

She touches up her make-up, adding a dash of blush to each cheek and her signature pink lipstick, dabbing her lips with a tissue to lighten the shade slightly. She eyes herself in the mirror, checking for any holes or stains, both of which are common on her clothes. Finding nothing amiss, she grabs her clutch and makes her way out of the room.

Throughout the elevator ride down, she forces herself not to think of Oliver Queen. She runs through potential questions she'll get at tomorrow's official show panel. She runs her fingers through her hair, already finding tangles. She adjusts her glasses without them needing any adjustment. The doors slide open and she scurries out and toward the entrance. She picks up her car from valet and begins the harrowing journey through San Diego traffic. __These are the moments I wish I didn't always insist on forgoing the town car,__ she thinks as she gets stuck in a traffic jam on the freeway mere minutes away from the Old Town exit. __Good thing I left early.__

Once the worst of the traffic has passed, she finally exits the perils of the freeway and makes her way up surface streets to Old Town. She parks a few blocks away, down a side street to avoid paying for parking. "They probably wouldn't have charged me," she murmurs as she fumbles with her keys in an attempt to stuff them into her clutch. The pain in her feet isn't as strong as it was earlier in the day, but she can still feel it. "I need alcohol."

Once surrounded by the buildings of Old Town, she makes were way to the vendors, enjoying the handmade products and stereotypical near-the-Mexican-border souvenirs. No one seems to be paying her much attention. A few people spot her, but they don't make a move for autographs or pictures. She smiles to herself, happy to know that her fans are so thoughtful. This makes her wonder how the evening might go if Oliver Queen decides to join them. Paparazzi everywhere. Squealing fans. She shudders, her nervousness building. She glances at her watch and sees it is almost time to meet everyone. She turns and makes her way to her chosen restaurant. From a considerable distance, she can already see __him__ standing there, waiting. __Shit...__

"I thought you'd be one of those who would be here early," Oliver Queen says with a laugh as she finally arrives.

"I got here early, but I just walked around for a little while. I love this place."

He nods. "It's been years since I've been here."

They stand in awkward silence for a few moments, looking at one another. Felicity breaks their connection and looks at her watch. "Roy is always late," she says, wiping a smudge from the watch-face. "And another friend of mine, Caitlin Snow, won't be here until a little later."

Oliver chuckles. "Well, I hope it's okay that I invited a friend as well...?"

She nods. "Of course it's okay. The more the merrier." With that, Roy appears from around the corner, still dressed in his press junket suit. "You couldn't change before?"

He raises an eyebrow at her. "When I look like this?"

All three of them laugh. Roy and Oliver shake hands and exchange a few comments, most of which Felicity ignores as she glances around, wondering who Oliver might have invited. The streets and shops are beginning to overflow with crowds and her anxiousness grows at a faster rate. __If anyone notices Oliver Queen... the night will be ruined.__ As she scans the sidewalks, she catches sight of a behemoth of a man with an amused smirk etched across his face. She instantly recognizes him. "You invited John Diggle!?" she hisses, slapping Oliver's arm. Roy spins around in shock, then gives Felicity a sideways glance that tells her he wants them to invite Oliver Queen everywhere.

"Yeah. Is that okay? He was in town for the convention and I thought he'd be a nice addition."

John Diggle waves toward them and Oliver returns the gesture as he walks up to his friend. __His friend John-effing-Diggle.__ As they walk over, Oliver begins to make introductions. Felicity's cheeks warm as she shakes John Diggle's hand, feeling the strength behind the gentleness he shows. "It's so nice to meet you! I have such respect for your work. I mean, it couldn't have been easy acting on action film sets after your brother died a-la Brandon Lee. Terrible tragedy..." Felicity looks around at the three men and instantly feels embarrassment mounting and burying her into the sidewalk. "And I shouldn't have said that. Shit. That was really messed up. I'm so sorry, Mister Diggle."

John Diggle laughs heartily. "Please, call me Digg. And don't worry about it." He pats her on the shoulder lightly. "I do what I do in his memory."

"With that cringe-fest out of the way," Roy exclaims, taking attention off Felicity. "Can we go get some food. I'm starving and I can smell the awesomeness."

They all nod and make their way inside. At the sight of Oliver and Digg, the staff make it their point to give them the best spot out on the balcony. They take their seats and are welcomed by a gorgeous view of Old Town and the greater San Diego area beyond. The summer air is warm but the breeze up on the balcony is refreshing. They are handed their menus and they all order drinks. Roy insists on starting the night off with a round of tequila shots, of which the two other men agree without hesitation. Felicity is outnumbered, but she can't deny the desire to try some of the restaurant's famed liquor. Along with the shots she orders a house margarita and a glass of water, remembering what her mother had always told her: "You can drink all you want, but you gotta make sure to keep yourself hydrated. Always order water with your drinks." Oliver and Digg each order draft beers.

The conversation overflows even before the shots arrive, all of the guys instantly finding a camaraderie she has no part in. She peruses the menu, keenly aware of Oliver Queen's warmth beside her. She keeps checking her watch, waiting for the time that Caitlin will arrive to save her from the testosterone overload. She digs her phone out of her clutch and shoots Caitlin a text, begging for her to hurry.

"Alright, everyone," the waitress exclaims as she comes to the table with a tray of beverages. "I hope you're ready for all of this." She sets everyone's drinks onto the table and then pulls her notepad out of her apron pocket. "Everyone know what they want?"

They all order their food and then the waitress leaves them to their shots. Roy smiles across the table from Felicity, holding up his glass. "To new friends!"

"To new friends!" they all chant before downing the shot. Felicity closes her eyes in an attempt to ease the burning cascading down her throat. When she opens them again, he glances at Oliver. He's completely stoic and unfazed by the intensity of the shot. "That was some strong stuff," she mumbles as she gulps down some water.

Oliver shrugs, gazing down at her with a grin. "Considering my father keeps a collection of fine Russian vodka on hand back in Starling City, this is nothing..."

She nods. "That's right. You're rich..." She looks up at him to find his brow raised slightly. "Well, I mean, of course you're rich. You're a movie star. What I meant to say is that you've always been rich."

"That would be correct," he responds, taking a sip of his beer, clearly fighting back laughter.

She hangs her head slightly and starts on her margarita, wondering how much worse her word-vomit could become once the alcohol starts loosening her tongue even more. __Or does it have the opposite effect? Why don't I know this already?__

"Felicity!"

She looks up to see Caitlin coming through the doorway, her smile fading as she catches sight of the other people seated around the table. __Shit. I didn't tell her Oliver Queen was gonna be here.__ "Caitlin! I'm __so__ glad you made!" Felicity proclaims, rising from her chair awkwardly to hug her friend. She turns and introduces her to the table... not that introductions were really necessary.

"It's so nice to meet you two," Caitlin says, her cheeks growing red and her hands beginning to shake. As she seats herself next to Felicity, she leans in and mutters: "Why didn't you warn me two of the world's most talked about actors would be here for dinner!?"

"Sorry," Felicity mouths just as a basket of chips is placed on the table along with two bowls of salsa. Everyone digs in and starts chatting, getting to know one another. Felicity remains quiet, worried about what nonsense could spill out of her mouth. __I've already reminded Digg of his dead brother and made silly comments about Oliver's money... It can only get worse.__

Caitlin nudges Felicity. "Oliver won't stop looking at you."

Felicity looks at her friend, confused. "Really?" She casts a sideways glance toward Oliver to find him doing the same thing. She can feel her face going hot. She looks back at Caitlin and feigns nonchalance. "I have no idea why..."

"Well, in case you didn't know, all the internet is talking about is his interest in making an appearance on your show. For a moment, I thought you might actually break the internet."

The waitress interrupts to get Caitlin's food and drink order, then refills Felicity's water. The conversation at the table gets lively as the drinks slowly empty. Felicity savors her margarita, unwilling to drink it too fast for fear of what such a beverage might lead her to do if she stares at Oliver Queen too long. Glancing at him, she finds him smiling broadly, genuinely. She can tell he doesn't smile often, and it makes her feel good to put him in a situation where he might actually be enjoying himself. She runs a hand through her hair and then takes a deep breath, feeling slightly less on edge.

"How'd the two of you meet?" Oliver asks, leaning forward to look over at Caitlin.

"College. I actually credit myself for Felicity getting into acting. If it weren't for my helpful, best-friend nudge, she might be sitting in a dank office working I.T. I mean-"

"That's what I originally wanted to do," Felicity interrupts, after taking a lengthy sip of her margarita. __To hell with this. This thing is too damn good to neglect.__ "Then she convinced me to join the university's improv club. What was it you said...?"

Caitlin chuckles. "I think I said something about how your babbles might be beneficial to the improv actors, and maybe you'd find yourself a new hobby."

"And did the babbles help the actors?" Oliver asks as he looks down at Felicity, his eyes warm and bright with amusement.

"Yes," she answers, looking away to glare at Caitlin. "But really... that's not an interesting story. How about we hear how the brilliant Oliver Queen got into acting..."

There was silence as everyone else at the table nodded with interest. Felicity turned back to find Oliver smiling down at her as if challenging her in some sort of flirtatious battle, but she didn't understand what the battle was about. It was a simple question to answer. Anyone at the table could answer that question with ease, right? "Running a company didn't seem like something I'd enjoy. What did seem like a good idea was shooting action scenes and making out with hot actresses." He winks, making everyone laugh. "It's really that simple.

Something in the way he reaches for his beer and takes a swig tells her that there's more to the story, and she wonders whether she'll ever get to learn more.

* * *

"Why would you drive here when you could use a town car?" Oliver asks as he, along with Roy, carries Felicity down the street toward her car.

She laughs incessantly, unable to control what comes out of her mouth. Her face is hot and her vision blurs, making it feel as though the world is moving by her while she stands still. But her feet are moving awkwardly, tripping over Oliver's every few steps. She leans into him and sniffs his button up shirt, once again admiring his choice of cologne. Suddenly the smell triggers a wave of queasiness and she groans. "Oh god, why did I drink so many margaritas!?"

Roy chuckles, gripping her waist a little tighter as she stumbles over a rut in the road. "I'm pretty sure we asked you that, and you just giggled and gulped one down in a few seconds."

She raises her head and looks up at Oliver. He returns her gaze and smiles sympathetically. "I don't normally do this," she admits, feeling an extreme case of embarrassment. "Truly."

"I believe you," he says as they finally come to her car. He glances at Roy. "I'll drive her back to her hotel. You mentioned you drove yourself here as well, right?"

"Yeah, but I'm safe to drive. I had one shot and one beer. I was afraid this might happen," he says, jerking his head down in her direction. "Are you sure you don't want me to take her?"

"It's fine. I took a town car... something my family insists I do..." Oliver sighs, then continues. "You can follow behind us, if you like. You can help me get her up to her room."

Roy nods. "Sure. Just let me pull my car around." And then he's gone.

Felicity tries to keep her eyes down, away from Oliver, but his allure is intense and she can't help but gaze up into his blue eyes. He leads her to the passenger seat, then waits. "What's the hold up?" she asks, her words slurring slightly at the end.

He holds out his free hand. "Keys, please?"

"Oh," she murmurs, then laughs again as she digs her keys out of her clutch and drops them into his palm, amazed by the size of his hands. He unlocks and opens the door, then eases her into the seat. After the door shuts, she lets out a breath. "Those hands were crafted by the God himself!" she exclaims, then instantly regrets it as she hears him chuckle outside of the car.

He gets in and starts the ignition. He turns down the radio and then switches the A/C to full blast, turning all of the vents to face Felicity. She basks in the cold air, letting it dry her clammy skin and soothe her pounding head and roiling ickiness. Once the worst of the nausea is over, she turns to face Oliver, finding him watching her with concern etched onto his face. "Thank you, Oliver."

For a moment he closes his eyes and smiles. When he opens them once more, she can see some intense emotion. Or maybe she's imagining it in her drunken haze. But he nods. "No problem," he whispers, letting his hand rest on her hands clenched in her lap. With his touch, her muscles instantly relax and he rests her head back on the seat and closes her eyes, letting herself succumb to a car ride nap.

Halfway through the drive, however, she wakes up. She lifts her heavy eyes toward Oliver and watches him, finding his concentration incredibly sexy. WIth each streetlight that illuminates his face, she grows even more enthralled. She looks down at his hand still resting atop hers and smiles. She moves her left hand out from under his and slowly lets it graze his leg. She finds his pocket and digs his phone out, drawing out a protest from his lips. "Felicity, what the hell are you doing?" But he doesn't stop her. He simply keeps driving, getting them closer to their hotels.

She puts her name in his phone, unwilling to let this opportunity pass. She shoves the phone back in his pocket and then resumes her napping position, simply muttering, "Now you have my number."


	3. Textual Communication

Felicity awakens with an ache in her head and her phone buzzing incessantly. She groans as she stretches across the king size bed toward the side table, covering the glowing screen with her palm. She opens one eye as she attempts to lower the brightness of the screen, then brings it close to her face to find multiple messages awaiting her. She can't bring herself to peruse them without being in her wide-awake-mode. She groggily leaves the bed, finding the room freezing. She rushes over to the A/C unit and turns it off, then slips her feet into her sock monkey slippers. She opens the blackout curtains and finds the morning sunlight welcoming despite how painful it is to her unacclimated eyes.

She walks to the restroom. She switches the light on and finds herself in her pajamas. __How did I get in these? How did I get into my room?__ As she takes care of her morning business, she sweeps through her memories of the night before, catching snapshots of conversations and actions. She vaguely recalls stumbling into the room with Roy and Oliver at her heels, unwilling to leave her alone until she was safely prepared for bed. She glances down at the bathroom floor and finds her clothes from the night before in a lumpy pile on the tile. She recalls looking in the mirror and laughing at her hair and smudged eyeliner. "Jeez..."

She washes her hands and face, then brushes her teeth. She slips on her glasses and moves back out into the room, hopping onto the bed. She grabs her phone and begins scrolling through her text messages.

 ** **Caitlin:**** ****OMG I still can't believe you're friends with Oliver Queen!****

 ** **-**** __7:13am__

 ** **Roy: I know you'll be sleeping late, but here's a video of your drunken shenanigans last night.****

- _ _8:26am__

She opens the attachment with one eye closed, as if that can keep half of the embarrassment away. She watches as she dances about the room in her pajamas, repeatedly asking if they're filming: "You better be filming this!" In the background she hears Roy and Oliver both laughing and telling her she needs to get some rest. Finally she jumps onto the bed and is almost instantly snoring. Oliver reaches over her and pulls the blankets up, covering her up to her neck. He looks up at the camera and smiles, giving Roy a thumbs up before the video ends.

Felicity groans. "Why would I want them to film me!?"

She leaves the video and goes to her other messages. The rest are uninteresting. Her agent reminding her of the panel. Her mom wishing her luck and saying how proud she is. More freak outs from Caitlin. Then she reaches the final messages... the ones that had woken her up. She sees the name and can't help but smile.

 ** **Oliver Queen****

"He must have put his number in my phone."

She opens the messages and instantly feels waves of more embarrassment, excitement and nervousness.

 ** **Oliver Queen: Good morning! Since you forced your number into my phone last night, I figured I'd do the same. But I didn't have to take it out of your pocket to do it.****

 _ _-10:30am__

 ** **Oliver Queen: I am letting you know that you will soon receive a knock on your door. It will be room service. I've ordered you a fantastic hangover breakfast to get your day started.****

 _ _-10:31am__

 ** **Oliver Queen: And before you protest, it is already ordered. Just enjoy it. And don't worry about paying me back or anything - It is my pleasure. Enjoy your day. Hope to see you around the Con.****

 _ _-10:32am__

Felicity simply stares at the words, running them over and over. The idea of Oliver Queen caring enough to order room service for her will not sink in. "Holy shit."

With that, a knock sounds on the door and she jumps up, excited to see what he might have ordered her. She thanks the server, giving him a small tip before he exits the room, leaving her with a cart full of deliciousness. There's a bowl of mixed fruit: strawberries, mangoes, blackberries and raspberries. There's a picture perfect chocolate chip muffin. There's a gloriously big pot of coffee and multiple flavor packets to add to each cup refill. There's a glass of orange juice, a bottle of water and then, finally, a small bottle of aspirin. Seeing it reminds her of the pain in her head and she twists the cap off, taking two with a swig of water.

Beneath the bottle of aspirin, she finds a handwritten note. She admires each letter and word, then finally reads it with comprehension.

 _ _To get you in tip-top shape for your panel today. You'll be wonderful, and I'm certain there will be zero word-vomit escaping your mouth today! -OQ__

She reads it a few times and can't fight back the silly smile spreading across face. She sits down at the table and nibbles at the muffin, enjoying each chocolatey bite. Finally she loses her calm and starts giggling. "I can't seriously be this lucky..."

* * *

She stands backstage with Roy, listening and blushing as he tells their co-stars all about their evening with Oliver Queen. She keeps her eyes down and fidgets with the structured frill on her dress, eyeing each stitch. She can hear the crowd out in the event hall; what might sound like normal chatter with just two people multiplied by six thousand. The sound is deafening. __Was it that loud yesterday?__ She can't recall hearing such a rumble of voices.

"I still can't believe he invited John Diggle! That man is a beast..." Roy has their co-stars eating out of the palm of his hand with his tale. "I wish I could get that buff."

"You're too lazy for that," Felicity murmurs, and she looks up to catch a glare from Roy before he moves on to describe more of their night, complete with Felicity's margarita guzzling.

It is a godsend when the moderator begins introducing the panel. The producers are called out first, then supporting cast. Felicity waits as the moderator teases her arrival even though everyone knows who from the cast is left. She opens Instagram on her phone, turning on the video feature.

"Let me hear you scream for __Felicity Smoak__!" the moderator exclaims and she goes out onto the stage, hitting the record button. She waves to the screaming room, unable to keep the excitement from her face. She takes her seat beside Roy, snapping a quick selfie with him before the panel begins.

"I'd like to start out by saying that season two was a fantastic ride!" The crowd cheers, forcing the moderator to raise his arm to call for silence. "How early on did you know that so many of the characters would die in the end?" he continues, directing the question to the producers.

They look at one another and laugh lightly. "Well," one begins, leaning toward the mic. "It was a decision we made at the end of season one, actually. We knew our main character needed more of a push, something that would help her understand the importance of her work and mission. So it seemed only natural to take away her major support system and those with whom she relied so heavily." They glance over at her and she returns their smiles. "And we knew we had a truly capable actress to take on such emotionally intense scenes."

The crowd cheers again, and Felicity blushes. __Well, at least I know I did it well...__

"Felicity," the moderator faces her, grinning. "What's it like playing one of the most badass women in television?"

"It's awesome," she says. "It is great to play a character who is tough and extremely intelligent. If she weren't intelligent and so tech-savvy, I might not have been interested in the role at all. That part of her character is my favorite part."

"How much of the computer lingo is real and how much is made up?"

Felicity can't help but laugh at this question. "It's all real," she answers simply. When the moderator doesn't continue, she elaborates. "I have a degree in computer engineering so I often correct the writers or improvise when something is not correct."

This brings a murmur from the crowd that silences Felicity. __No one likes hearing that an actress is also smart.__ Breaking the awkwardness is a thunderous cheer from the women in the crowd, sending a wave of pride through her. __At least the women support me...__

The moderator directs the questions at Roy, leaving Felicity to listen attentively. Halfway through Roy's answer, her phone vibrates in hand resting in her lap. She looks up, checking that all eyes are on Roy, then checks the message discreetly.

 ** **Oliver Queen: The fans who can't respect your intelligence are idiots.****

 _ _-3:15pm__

She looks around, trying to see past the spotlights and flashes from cameras, but she doesn't see him. Her fingers fly, typing a message with practiced quickness. She hits send.

 ** **Me: You're here... at the panel?****

 _ _-3:15pm__

"Felicity," the moderator says, glancing down at his notes. "Can you tease anything about this new season?"

She clears her throat in an attempt to calm herself. __Oliver Queen is here... at the panel... Keep calm. He's just a guy...__ "Well, the death of her mother will definitely send her onto a quest for revenge. My only hope is that she can find a reason to find peace and acceptance."

Roy begins adding to the question, teasing that maybe their characters can help one another with that. As he speaks, her phone goes off once, then twice.

 ** **Oliver Queen: Of course I'm here!****

 _ _-3:17pm__

 ** **Oliver Queen: Maybe I can guest star as a reason for your character to find peace and acceptance...?****

 _ _-3:17pm__

Felicity stares down at the message, confused by his meaning. Dozens of different scenarios run through her head, dancing and flickering like candlelight. __Did he just imply that he could play love interest for me?__ The thought brings a warm blush to her cheeks and she can't bring herself to answer him back; how does one respond to such things? She looks out at the audience, smiling and waving to fans seeking her attention. This keeps her mind away from inappropriate images.

"Okay, one last question before we turn it over to the fans," the moderator announces. "Whoever is willing to answer... Yesterday we were all shocked by Oliver Queen's interest in appearing on the show. Is there any plans to take him up on the offer? And if so, any ideas on who he could play?"

The producers chuckle in sync with one another. Then one leans forward. "We've begun discussing this... If it is possible, we'd love to have him. But, as of now, we have to ideas for him or any other guest stars outside of the first few episodes."

This causes an eruption of chants demanding Oliver Queen, and another text to Felicity's phone.

 ** **Oliver Queen: It appears the fans know what they want.****

 _ _-3:22pm__

She rolls her eyes without hesitation or care of who might notice, then sends her own message.

 ** **Me: I think someone's full of themselves.****

 _ _-3:22pm__

Fans line up behind a microphone on either side of the hall, ready with their questions. She attempts to keep her attention on each of the fans, knowing she would not have anything without their continued support. Each question focuses primarily on Felicity's character; some seek answers to unresolved plot points, some want to know her favorite line from season 2. She answers each one graciously, keeping them enthralled. She hopes her appreciation for their interest in her work shows in her answers.

"Okay, one last question," the moderator proclaims. Suddenly the hall is abuzz with chatter, gasps and fangirling screams. Felicity scans the room, finding the microphone and a very familiar tall, muscular person behind it, smiling.

"Hi," he says, and the audience erupts into cheers. "I have a question for Miss Smoak."

She can feel her face flooding with a powerful blush. __Will this never end...?__ "Yes, Mister Queen?"

"Would you like to go to dinner with me," he begins, sending women into girlish chatter and swoons before he finishes the question: "...to discuss potential collaborations?"

She laughs loudly into the mic, unable to control the giddiness that has overcome her. She clears her throat and answers: "My people will get in touch with your people..."

The hall fills with thunderous laughter and she watches as Oliver's cheeks change color to mimic her own. With that obvious flirtation out of the way, the moderator thanks the cast and producers for a lively panel and photo ops begin.

* * *

The cast lingers backstage. Roy and a few of the female cast bombard Felicity with comments all center on Oliver Queen. "Felicity, how the hell did you get his attention like this?" one of the girls asks.

"Seriously, I have no idea!"

"Are you gonna go to dinner with him?" Roy asks, smirking his usual over-confident smirk. "You definitely played hard-to-get out there."

"I'd be stupid not to go," Felicity says, and everyone nods in agreement. "I just don't understand it. What makes me so special that he wants to be around me?"

"I think it's best not to question it and just enjoy it, girl!" one of the girls says with a giggle. "You're lucky."

They all part ways. Felicity heads out of the building and into a town car, quickly kicking out of her heels, thinking of Oliver Queen's regular use of such luxuries and wondering whether or not he's doing the same. She imagines him sitting in the back seat, grinning at his remarkable flirtation. His smugness makes her wonder if he's used the backseat of a town car for other activities. __No! Stop it, Smoak! Not appropriate!__ she scolds herself.

As if hearing her thoughts, her phone goes off with a new message.

 ** **Oliver Queen: How about dinner tomorrow at 7pm in a secret location?****

 _ _-4:02pm__

She types quickly with shaking fingers.

 ** **Me: That depends. Were the potential collaborations you spoke of professional or personal?****

 _ _-4:02pm__

She waits for his answer, fidgeting with her dress in an attempt to keep the previous images out of her head. Finally he answers.

 ** **Oliver Queen: Perhaps both. Depends on how the dinner goes.****

 _ _-4:06pm__

The possibilities begin to overwhelm Felicity as the car pulls up to her hotel and she enters the lobby, swinging her shoes back and forth like a child. She can't remember the last time she felt such intense euphoria, but it washes over her and keeps her grinning like a fool. She knows she should be wary. She knows she should be confused. But right now she can only think of how amazing a one-on-one dinner with Oliver Queen might be. She reaches the elevator and pushes the button then wait, rocking back on her heels. She allows the images she had kept safely away to flash across her mind in a cascade, but she keeps her skepticism up and strong. THe elevator doors open and she steps in. As it ascends, she types a message. Just as she reaches her floor, she hits send, unable to keep a giggle from escaping her lips.

 ** **Me: Then have your people send my people specifics.****

 _ _-4:11pm__


	4. Lilies, Crashing and a Rendezvous

_Author's Note: Thank you for all of your support! I am so pleased that everyone is enjoying this story! A little correction on this: When I originally started writing and posting this on Ao3, I had no idea Zachary Levi was no longer married to Missy Peregrym. But, since I already wrote it in, I'm leaving it. It was my fail that I hadn't looked into that before writing this. ANYWAYS. Enjoy. Don't forget to leave reviews! :D_

* * *

Felicity stares at her phone, waiting for the specifics she had requested hours ago. The TV flashes in the background, the Comic-Con coverage blurred as she scrolls through her textual exchanges with Oliver Queen, wondering if she had done something wrong. __Did he think I actually meant to get in touch with__ my people _ _? I'm not__ that __famous.__ She eyes his name with a mixture of annoyance and obsession, wondering if this might be how every woman behaves when Oliver Queen shows them the slightest bit of interest.

Finally she snaps out of the spell. "Get it together, Smoak! He's just a guy." She tosses the phone to the end of the bed, burying herself under the covers and retrieving her pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream from the side table. She dips the spoon into the green depths to find the ice cream melted, all of the chocolate chips congregated at the bottom of the carton. She shrugs and tilts the pint to her lips and takes a swig. __It's basically a shake now.__ Then as if on queue, she imagines Oliver watching her, amusement written in his eyes and spread across his lips in a cocky grin. She glances down at the carton in her hand and sighs, setting it aside. __It wasn't that good anyways...__

She turns her attention to the TV, finding the entertainment news experts losing it over Oliver's date proposal at the show's panel. She grabs the remote and turns up the volume. "Yesterday the buzz was about Queen's interest in guest starring on Smoak's hit television show. Now we're all unable to contain ourselves over the question he asked her at the show's panel earlier today." It cuts to a clip from the panel, featuring Oliver in his perfectly tailored suit and that overly confident playboy grin. She watches his expression change when she gives her answer, the embarrassed flush flooding his cheeks. __Now he understands how it must feel for me to be around him...__

As the show speculates over Oliver and Felicity's status as a couple and whether or not they'd be good for one another, there's a knock on her door, making her jump. She rushes to the door and glances out the peephole, finding room service. __He did not do it again, did he...?__

She opens the door to find the server not pushing a tray, but carrying an arrangement of beautiful asiatic lilies. The pops of pink at the center of each petal brighten her evening instantly. "Who are these from?"

The server shrugs. "I was instructed to deliver them, not explain their origins. Sorry."

She smiles and reaches out for the flowers. "Thank you," she says, then hands him a few bucks for his trouble.

He bows his head, then holds up a hand. "There's a card, I'm sure that will explain everything!" he points to the center of the cluster of lilies and then leaves. Felicity shuts the door and leans in, inhaling the gorgeous fragrance.

"Well, Mister Queen, it seems you know my favorite flower..." She sets the arrangement on the table and retrieves the card, gazing down at the floral pattern embossed in purples and pinks on the front. The texture is perfect and intricate, exactly what she expects from a card sent by Oliver Queen. She flips it open and once again marvels at his handwriting. Each curve of the letters. Each clear flourish of the pen. Most men wouldn't take the time to handwrite a note for someone, and none who do would have handwriting so perfect. Felicity smiles at the care he's taken in sending her this arrangement and card.

 _ _Our evening will begin at 6pm. A town car will arrive to escort you to our secret rendezvous an hour from here. I recommend dressing warmly; the night air can be quite chilly where we'll be and I want you to enjoy yourself. I'll see you then. -OQ__

She reads the note over and over, feeling giddy and not at all nervous. She rushes over to her luggage and shuffles through the many outfit options she brought with her. Having grown up in Las Vegas, she's never trusted herself to pack lightly with only clothes for expected weather. Even though it is summer in San Diego, she's packed for multiple weather scenarios. She digs out a black leather jacket, knowing for certain she'll wear it. She finds a pair of black jeans and pairs them with a pair of ankle boots. Last she scrounges up a comfortable sleeveless pink button up top. __If he wants me to enjoy myself, he better expect comfy clothes... not just warm ones.__

She hears her phone going off. __Twitter notifications...__ She groans and plops onto the bed and grabs her phone, eyeing the multitude of tweets directed at her, all asking the same thing: ****Will you be at Oliver Queen's Nerd HQ panel tomorrow?****

She's uncertain what they're talking about. She goes through and finds a link to the website selling tickets to his panel. All proceeds go to charity and all of the seats have already sold out, leaving the rest standing-room-only. She's shocked, but intrigued. She instantly pulls up Zachary Levi's twitter and private messages him with her number and interest in the panel.

She goes back to watching the television, now playing a re-run of some crime show she's never watched before. Halfway through the episode, her phone begins to ring and she's met with a number she's unfamiliar with on the caller I.D. She answers it. "Hello?"

"Hey! Felicity Smoak? This is Zach. Levi," the cheery voice on the other end announces. She laughs.

"Hey! I'm sorry to bother you. I know you got a lot on your plate with Nerd HQ and all. But I had a question regarding Oliver Queen's panel tomorrow. I was wondering if-"

"If you could crash it?" he interrupts with a chuckle.

"How'd you know?"

"Well, he kinda sorta crashed yours, so why not return the favor, right?"

She nods and laughs again. "Exactly!" She stands up and begins pacing the room, her excitement building. "It that possible?"

"Most definitely. We had Matt Smith and Jenna Coleman crash Richard Madden's panel in twenty-thirteen, and that wasn't an issue. It actually made things so fun. What I'd like to ask is if you wanna join Queen for a Smiles for Smiles after the panel?"

"That'd be amazing! I'd love to!"

"Great!" Zachary Levi exclaims and then begins getting serious. "His panel starts at one, so I'd imagine you should crash it about halfway through. You'll need to be there before it starts, but keep yourself hidden. I'll have my wife keep you company while you stay away. That okay?"

"Definitely!"

* * *

Felicity arrives at Petco Park with a few minutes to spare, texting Zachary Levi to let him know she's enroute to the panel. He answers that he's sending his wife to her. Within moments Missy Peregrym is rushing over, chattering about how awesome it is that she's crashing the panel like Oliver did to her. Felicity is taken into a room that leads to the panel and finds it broadcast on a screen for volunteers to watch.

Oliver Queen is dressed casually in a forest green henley, tight-fitting jeans and pair of gray oxfords. He's incredibly handsome, smiling at each fan reciting their questions and answering with an air of relaxed admiration. He cares for his fans just as much as she cares for hers, and she finds that trait not just likable, but ridiculously sexy. __Keep thoughts of sexiness out of your mind, Smoak! Now is not the time.__

"Huh," Missy begins with a chuckle. "You guys match... are you sure he doesn't know you're coming?"

Felicity looks up at the screen and then down at her top and groans. Both of their shirts are forest green, perfectly matched in shade. She shakes her head. "No. He doesn't know I'm here. No one does." Then she retrieves her phone. "Well, one person does. My best friend. I warned her ahead of time to watch the livestream of the panel 'cause I'd be crashing it."

"Well, that's a crazy coincidence then."

A few minutes later, Missy tells her it's time to move in. They go over to the door and Missy motions for Felicity to stay hidden in the shadows while she opens the door and interrupts the flow of the panel. "Sorry!" Felicity hears Missy say. "But I think we have a visitor."

"What do you mean?" Oliver asks, confused.

"We may have a panel-crasher here today, buddy." Zachary says, his voice full of excitement.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah... I think this crasher should just come out now."

Felicity follows her cue and runs out. Once Oliver sees her, his smile widens and he stands up from his chair. The crowd is cheering and Zachary and Missy are laughing. Once she reaches Oliver, he opens his arms, drawing her into a hug that she didn't know she wanted until now. His cologne wafts over her and she sighs, loving the scent. __Can he go anywhere without being perfect?__

"Well," Oliver whispers into her ear. "This is certainly a surprise."

A volunteer rearranges the stage to allow for two chairs to occupy the center, and Felicity collapses into the chair and folds her legs. __Criss-cross-applesauce,__ she thinks out of childhood habit. "Hi, everyone!" she says into a mic another volunteer brings her. She glances sideways at Oliver and finds him eyeing her outfit with a curious smile.

"I guess I deserve this after crashing your panel, huh?" he asks with a chuckle.

She nods. "Fair is fair." The crowd laughs. "But don't mind me, guys," she continues, looking out into the audience. "You're here for Mister Queen."

"Next question, please..." Zachary points to a girl at the very back waving a microphone. "You there!"

She stands up and waves. "Hi! My name is Candace, and my question is for Oliver."

"Hi Candace!" Oliver says with a wink. Felicity can't help but roll her eyes. __Does the charm ever go away?__

"Hi," the girl giggles, then quickly composes herself. "I was wondering if there's one literary, classic film or comic book character you'd love to play and why?"

Oliver chuckles as he bows his head and contemplates his answer. Felicity watches him, catching him glancing her way from time to time. Each tiny bit of eye contact sends waves through her, making her feel warm and -once again- giddy. __Nope... the charm never goes away. Is he a warlock? He must be a warlock!__

"Well," Oliver begins, thoughtfully. "I'll answer all three for you." The audience cheers a bit, then falls silent to hear his answer. "For literary character, I think it would be amazing to play Gatsby. But, of course, Leo DiCaprio already stole that one. For classic film, I'd love to play Paul Varjak in a __Breakfast At Tiffany's__ remake. As for comics... hmm. I wish I could have played Magneto in __First Class__. But I think they picked the perfect actor for that role. So the only plausible character would be Varjak in this case."

Felicity smiles, remembering the first time she watched that film and how much she adored Varjak. "There needs to be a remake of that film," she says into her mic, bringing out a surge of agreement from the crowd.

"I agree, wholeheartedly," Oliver says, eyeing her with a mixture of glee and flirtation. "I have to say, Felicity, that it seems we match today. How is that possible?"

She shrugs. "No idea."

"It must be meant to be."

Girls in the crowd giggle and sigh, his statement too romantic for them to handle. __Imagine being me!__ Felicity thinks, feeling her heart picking up speed to hammer in her chest. She glances over at Zachary and he nods. "Next question, down front, Thor shirt."

"Hi! My name is Andrew. My question is for Oliver. Have you been contacted to appear on SNL?"

Oliver lets out a hearty laugh. "Oh, Andrew. I wish! That has been a dream. For some reason, no one has even remotely asked me about appearing or hosting. So I think all of you should start contacting the writers and producers. That's how tons of actors have been chosen to host! Get on it!"

"Next. You, with the first year Nerd HQ shirt!"

"Hi! My name is Emily. My question is actually for Felicity."

"Hi, Emily. You do know this is Oliver's panel, right?" Felicity teases.

"Yeah, well, I have to ask this. What is it like having the attention of Oliver Queen?"

Felicity's smile fades and she falls completely still and silent. She senses the Oliver's amusement, feels it cascading off of him and drifting over to her. It irritates her and excites her all at once. She clears her throat and puts on her best smile. "Well, it's very weird. I'm just a plain girl. I have no idea why a mega star like him would find interest in me. But hey, I guess I should sit back and enjoy it, right?"

The audience lets out a cheer and Oliver chuckles. "You should definitely enjoy it," he mutters for only her to hear.

"We have time for one more question, then these two lovely people will be doing Smiles for Smiles outside."

* * *

Felicity looks in the mirror, eyeing her outfit of choice. Her jeans hug her curves and give length to her legs. Her button up top is loose and detailed with adorable Regency patterns that accentuate her figure. She slips into her boots and clicks the heels together, wondering if she's dreaming but knowing for certain that she should go with it. __Enjoy how your luck has turned, Smoak.__ She goes back to the mirror with a tube of pink lipstick and spreads it over her lips, blotting away small imperfections with a tissue. Once that is applied, she grabs her jacket and takes one last look; a final once-over. He had insisted on warmth and wearing what would ensure her enjoyment of the evening, and this outfit hits the nail on the head. __Own it.__

She glances back at the arrangement of lilies and smiles, a blush flooding her cheeks. When she had returned from Nerd HQ it had dawned on her that no one else had ever given her flowers. __Well, except my dad on special occasion.__

She walks over and inhales their lovely scent, closing her eyes. As she straightens and begins heading for the door, her phone goes off. She pulls it out of her cat face purse and reads the message.

 ** **Oliver Queen: The car has arrived. I'm not in it, but I will be with you on the drive to our rendezvous via text; I have to make sure everything is ready fro your arrival. How has the rest of your day been?****

 _ _-5:56pm__

She grabs a bottle of water, remembering the length of the car ride and then leaves her room, walking down the hall while staring at the message, feeling her nerves building. She reaches the elevator and pushes the buttons. The doors open and she jumps in, pressing the button to close the doors faster. As she descends, she types her own message and hits send.

 ** **Me: It's been great. I had no panels or junkets. It was heaven to do things for myself. I hope it was okay for me to crash your panel...****

 _ _-5:59pm__

The doors slide open and she rushes to the entrance, finding the car waiting with polite driver waiting with the door open and a smile on his face. "Miss Smoak," he murmured as he helped her in and closed the door gently behind her. As she settled in and buckled her seatbelt, she received another message.

 ** **Oliver Queen: It was fantastic having you there. The fans loved it. And it was nice seeing you.****

 _ _-6:01pm__

Her cheeks warm with the words and she feels butterflies fluttering in her stomach, leading her to wonder why they are called butterflies and not flutterflies. __That's ridiculous.__ She types another message.

 ** **Me: It was nice seeing you too. Though it makes this date less special, don't you think?****

 _ _-6:01pm__

She leans her head back on the seat and closes her eyes, feeling the sway of the car as it pulls out onto the highway. She pulls out the pair of headphones she tucked into her purse, plugs them into her phone and turns on her favorite playlist, letting the music filter out the world. She mouths the lyrics and taps her fingers, letting everything else fall away. Then the music falls silent for a second as Oliver's message is received. She looks down and smiles.

 ** **Oliver Queen: You won't think that once you see the location.****

 _ _-6:06pm__

* * *

The car exits the highway and Felicity rolls the window down, letting the ocean breeze brush across her cheeks, sending her hair flying every which way. The car parks along a line of boats in a private marina. As the door opens and she leaves the shelter of the car, she sees which yacht she'll be boarding. A massive vessel compared to the others bobbing along the dock, with fairy lights dangling all about the decks, mimicking the candlelight that would be too dangerous to allow onboard. The name of the vessel is __Queen's Gambit II__ , reminding her of the scandal that had rocked the Queen family and all of Starling City a few years ago. This boat's namesake had sunk off the coast of China under mysterious circumstances, leading many to believe it to be foul play. No evidence could be found as to the cause of the sinking, and the crew that had lost their lives were memorialized outside of Queen Consolidated headquarters. Felicity had always kept with the theory that someone had assumed the family had been onboard.

She stands and feels the chilly breeze along her bare arms and is grateful for his instructions to dress warmly. She tugs on her jacket and then allows the driver to escort her up the gangway to the middlemost deck of the yacht. As soon as her boots hit the deck, Oliver is there, all smiles and a glass of champagne. "You made it here in record time," he exclaims as he hands her the glass and pulls her into an embrace. The thick fabric of his forest green pea coat is soft against her cheek and warm from his natural heat. She relishes contact for a few moments more before he steps away, letting her look up at him. "So, this is our secret rendezvous."

"You really like that word."

He nods. "I've never had reason to use it. This is the first time."

She giggles. "Well, I'm glad I could be your first." Her eyes widen at her words. She catches the glint of humor in his blue eyes and feels panicked. "Not that I'm your __first__. I'm sure you've had many before me. Not that I'll be one in that many... Just that... Oh. Never mind."

Oliver bursts out into laughter, his face crinkling to show off the illusive laugh-lines she wished he'd show more. "Relax, Felicity. No need to feel embarrassed." He steps aside and allows her access to the stairway up to the top deck. She makes her way up, feeling him close behind her.

 _ _Easy for you to say,__ she thinks as she pushes her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose and sighs, taking a quick sip from the glass in her hand. __You don't suffer from chronic word-vomit.__

Behind her, Oliver lets out a low chuckle and she knows instantly that she had spoken her thoughts out loud. "Damn it."

Once she reaches the top, Oliver takes her arm and turns her to face him. "Felicity, seriously. Relax."

The intensity of his gaze sends her out of her nervousness and into a whole other emotional sensation entirely. She's longed for a man to look at her with those eyes, that expression, since she was a child. She had always assumed it was something only seen in movies, and she'd acted alongside such expressions time and time before. But to experience it for real, with no scripts asking for it or cameras waiting for it. Now that Oliver Queen is showcasing it in all of its glory, she's awed and confused and feeling it right down to her toes. He reaches out and touches her elbow, running his thumb in calming circles as he smiles. __Oh yeah... the charm is definitely magical. He is a warlock. Without a doubt.__

He leads her to the table at the center of the deck just as the boat begins moving away from the marina and out into the sunset mirroring waters, keeping his hand at her elbow. He pulls out her seat, letting his hand fall after just one more circle and a gentle squeeze. She smiles and takes a seat. He sits across from her, and she can feel him watching her as she hangs her purse on the back of the chair and then turns back. His eyes are alight with genuine excitement and interest, leading her stomach into freakish somersaults and her heart into a pounding drumbeat. "So," she says, looking at the table covered in twinkling lights and another arrangement of lilies. "What's for dinner?"

"Nothing too fancy," he admits, glancing over to a group of servers. They come over with covered trays. The first one is uncovered to reveal a loaded salad, lightly tossed with a vinaigrette. The next server uncovers his tray to reveal a basket of delicious-looking breadsticks. The last server lifts the lid off his tray to reveal a large pizza steaming with cheesy goodness.

"Pizza... really classy, Mister Queen," she teases him, letting her eyes linger in an intimate gaze for just a moment before looking out over the water.

"Well, I figured no one can go wrong with pizza."

She nods. "You're right. Though, if it were a bag full of Big Belly Burger, you'd have me weak at the knees."

"Noted," he says. "There's always next time."

She returns her eyes to his, amazed by his confidence. __Not ten minutes into the date and he's already thinking about the next one.__ She turned his words over in her head and realized she was already hoping for a second date. __He's willing to feed me pizza, for crying out loud!__

Oliver waits for her to take a slice, but she doesn't make a move. "Please," he says, gesturing to the food. "Dig in." She nods with a grin and then takes a slice of pizza, discovering it is simply plain cheese. "I would have chosen something a bit more... substantial for the pizza, but I was unsure what toppings you liked."

She raises an eyebrow at him. "You know my favorite flowers but somehow have no clue what pizza toppings I prefer?"

"Lilies are your favorite flowers?" he asks, surprised.

She drops the slice of pizza onto her plate, her mouth falling open at his words. "You mean you didn't know?"

He shakes his head. "Not at all. It was a guess." He takes his own slice and then begins scooping up some salad and transferring it into a bowl. He holds out a hand for hers and she gives it to him. "My mother loves lilies, so it was really out of habit. Though I've always loved the smell of them, since I was a boy. Our home was always full of them." He gives her bowl back and she lets their fingers brush lightly, unable to deny her desire to feel his skin on hers.

"I wish I could have had flowers in my house growing up," she says, pulling a breadstick out of the basket. "The Vegas desert is a little too unforgiving for lilies, I think."

He nods. "They are delicate," he says.

They sit in silence for a few moments, then Oliver lifts his piece of pizza and takes a gigantic bite, melted cheese stretching away from the slice as he pulls it away from his face. He breaks it with his fingers, chuckling. Felicity follows his lead, taking a small bite of her breadstick, savoring the garlic butter slathered on the top. She chews for a few moments and then speaks around the bite. "Garden vegetable."

Oliver sets his fork down with a clump of lettuce skewered onto it. "What?"

She swallows the bite and then washes it down with a sip of champagne. "My preferred toppings..." she says, setting the glass back down with a smirk. "My preferred toppings are garden vegetable... And I can't deny myself the occasional meat lover's."

He nods. "Noted..." he mumbles, keeping his eyes locked with hers. "For next time."

"Of course." __So confident. Warlocks get everything they want, clearly.__

"My preferred toppings are considered a bit weird and gross to most people."

She raises her brows once more. "Oh really?"

"Yeah. While I love meat lover's and Hawaiian is great, I love mushroom and broccoli."

She bursts out laughing in disbelief. "Really?" She shakes her head, unable to accept his answer. "I used to order that at one of the malls in Vegas when I was a kid! I could never find it anywhere but that one mall."

He stares at her, dumbfounded. "You like that kind too?"

"Not so much anymore, but it is really good regardless!"

"There's a pizza parlor in Starling City that serves an amazing one. Maybe you could visit sometime and I'll take you there."

They stare at one another with the words sitting between them. The boat rocks against the lull of the ocean and the sun dips below the horizon, shrouding the world in night. The twinkling lights above and around them cast heavenly shadows upon everything. To Felicity, Oliver is somehow more handsome in this light, his muscles and perfect bone structure defined divinely. She finally works up the courage to look away, letting her eyes fall down to her plate. She takes another bite of her breadstick, then stabs some salad. They remain silent for a little while longer before Oliver finally breaks it.

"You look beautiful tonight," he says, reaching across the table to take her free hand in his.

She glances up through her lashes and blushes. "Thanks," she mumbles. She can't help the fluttering in her stomach, and she can't help the feelings soaring through her veins. She knows she would go to Starling City in a heartbeat if he asked. She simply didn't want to leave his company.


	5. Chats, Chocolate and Kiss-Worthy Fog

"Are you sure you don't want more?" Oliver asks, gesturing to the final few slices of pizza.

Felicity shakes her head. "Oh no," she says, trying not to pat her tummy to show how stuffed she is. "I've had my fill."

Oliver signals for the servers to take the food away, then turns his attention back to her. She's mesmerized by his attentiveness, always finding his eyes meeting hers no matter what is being said. __Or not said...__ It is impossible to ignore how he says so many things with just his eyes. He doesn't need words. __I guess that's what makes him such an amazing actor...__

She takes a sip of her champagne and then assaults him with a pointed gaze, hoping it is as intense as she thinks it is. His reaction is one of pure amusement, letting her know that her attempt has failed. She goes forward with her choice of conversation anyway. "So, what __really__ got you into acting?" she asks, winking awkwardly. "Because I know that story about not wanting to run your family's company and wanting to make out with hot actresses was complete B.S."

He chuckles and she can see he finds her assumption surprising. __You might be able to charm me, but I can see lies a mile away.__ "How'd you know I was lying?" he asks, eyebrow arched and a smirk etched onto his lips. She loves that face. The one that is all curiosity and interest and amused discomfort. So far it is her favorite look he has.

"Please," she scoffs, taking another sip of the champagne. "Seriously. It came off as totally rehearsed. I know there's something else to it. Maybe the action star perks sounded nice, but what actually led you down that road?" She knows she's being forceful now, more so than she had planned, but she can tell he's not offended. His eyes are still bright and entertained, albeit slightly nervous at her question. "Sorry. I'm being totally rude. You don't have t-"

"No, you're right," he interrupts, waving off her apology. He looks away, out at the water churning and lapping against the yacht. When he returns his gaze to hers, she can see he is someplace else, back to a time difficult to discuss. She regrets bringing it up. "I'm sure you know I was a bit of a playboy in my teens and early twenties..."

She nods, recalling his face plastered upon every tabloid in the supermarkets. __"A bit" seems like an understatement...__

"Well, some of my antics weren't very well-received by the shareholders at Queen Consolidated. My parents knew I wasn't going to change easily, so they cut me off."

Felicity's eyes widen at his words, having never thought of that as a possibility. "Really?"

"Yeah," he answers, taking his own sip of champagne before continuing. "I left home and spent some time with my friend Tommy. We partied and, after a while, that lifestyle didn't satisfy me. I understood why my parents had to do what they did. It was to teach me a lesson."

"But since you learned your lesson, why didn't you get your place in the family back?"

She watches as his face grows slightly prideful. "I realized I needed to earn my own living - do something that would make a name for myself without the company at my back. Tommy pointed out that my lies to women seemed to prove I was good enough to be an actor. So, I got an agent, auditioned for some roles, and the rest is history." He holds up his hands, as if gesturing to the boat and the decorations as examples.

"But isn't this your family's boat?" she asks.

He laughs. "It is for family use, but I bought it." When she nods and keeps her gaze locked with his. "I haven't relied on my family for years."

The knowledge of his independence hangs in the air, feeling heavy and strangely important. Felicity stands and walks over to the rail, looking out over the water scattered with reflections of the multitude of fairy lights strung about the boat. __Does it matter if he relied on his parents?__ she asks herself. She knows the answer. __If he relied on his parents, he wouldn't understand hard work or worry or anything of that sort. And, really, he wouldn't understand me.__ And she knows very well that he understood her. She knows he can read her like a book, which scares her slightly. People can read her babbles but never her silences. He can read both.

Suddenly his arm wraps around her waist, spinning her around and pulling her closer to him. And then they are dancing, light instrumental music hitting her ears and soothing her nervousness. She glances up to find him watching her, his blue eyes glowing with the twinkling lights. She feels like she's drowning in them.

He clears his throat and grins playfully. "I had a conversation with your agent today."

She raises an eyebrow, confusion setting in. But she takes a breath and responds just as playfully. "Oh yeah? What about?"

"Let's just say there's a script floating around to dozens of sought-after actresses right now for a movie that I'm part of," he explains, wagging his eyebrows in the most adorable way she's ever seen. "But I'd prefer acting alongside you."

She stares at him, open-mouthed with shock and amazement. "Uh, me? You want me to work on a movie with you?"

He nods excitedly. "Of course."

"But I have my show to work on and-"

He pulls her in closer and chuckles as he interrupts her. "That's why I spoke with your agent," he explains. "I told him the timeframe for the movie and he found the perfect way to fit it into your schedule. If you're interested, of course."

 _ _How can I not be interested!? It is a film with__ the __Oliver Queen...__ She tries to hide her excitement, keeping the fangirl inside from bursting forth and flailing and freaking out. She takes another deep breath and smiles. "What's the movie about?" she asks, feigning mild interest to mask her intense desire to accept the offer without any information.

"I'd rather you read the script for yourself like I did. It is an amazing story, and I really think the female lead role would be perfect for you," he says, tracing circles along her spine. The touch is so intimate and soothing, sending shivers throughout her body.

"You want me as the female lead?"

"What else would you expect?" he asks, confused. "You're remarkable, Felicity. You know how to really get in touch with your character, and I love that." They stare at one another for a few moments. She doesn't hear the music anymore, only his breathing and her heart pounding in her chest. He is so close and his lips are hovering near her forehead. She leans in, desperate to make contact, and he obliges. He kisses her forehead, his lips warm and gentle against her skin. When he pulls back, she looks up to find him grinning like a child who just won a prize. "Just promise me you'll read the script? It will be waiting for you when you get back tonight."

She laughs then, unable to stop it. When he eyes her questioningly, she stops for a moment to gasp out: "So you're saying we aren't staying on this boat or going back to your place?"

As soon as the words leave her mouth she regrets them. Hiding her face in her hands, she buries her face in his chest, unable to leave his arms but scared to look at his face or into his eyes. __Oh. My. God.__ But he rubs her back and laughs. A hearty laugh. An honest laugh. She takes a slight step back and peeks out from her hands to see him smiling, his eyes bright with the same amusement he has kept through the whole conversation. Before she can explain herself, he is waving off her words. "Contrary to my old reputation, I prefer to not have sex on a first date."

She nods and lets her hands fall, relaxing just a bit. "I can't believe I said that."

"Don't worry about it," he murmurs, pulling her close again and starting another dance. He brushes his fingers through her hair with one hand while twining the fingers of the other with hers. She glances at their hands and grins, liking the sight.

She doesn't know how long they dance like that, but soon the servers return with dessert. They uncover their individual trays to reveal an assortment of chocolate confections: chocolate covered strawberries, chocolate smothered cheesecake, chocolate gelato and two chocolate martinis. She can't help but giggle. "You really know the way to a girl's heart, don't you?"

"I figured I'd give you options and then you can take the others back with you. Late night snacks?" he winks as he takes both martini glasses, handing her one. She sips the drink and almost moans with delight. It is the definition of chocolate and alcohol perfection, warming her throat and giving her a sugar high. He watches her as she eyes the desserts, waiting for her to choose. She just looks at the choices, amazed by it all. __I'll wait until he picks one.__ And as if he knows, she watches as he grabs a strawberry and brings it to her lips. She takes a bite, unable to keep it from looking seductive. __Or maybe I look totally ridiculous... oh god.__ But when she looks into his eyes, she sees the color darkening and she can tell he's regretting the decision to let her go back to her hotel.

They continue dining on the chocolate until all that's left is the gelato, which has softened, the bottom of the glass bowls a rich pool. The servers take the trays away, leaving them alone once more. They sit in silence and Felicity fears her babbling will ruin the moment. She keeps her lips tightly closed, unwilling to risk anything. But finally, Oliver clears his throat and stands, offering her a hand. She takes it, loving the sensation of his skin on hers.

He leads her to the front of the yacht and she can see the San Diego skyline in the distance, signaling the looming end of the date. She knows then that she doesn't want to leave. She wants to stay with him. __Smoak, pull it together. You have a script to read!__

As she argues with herself, Oliver converses with the captain about the amount of time left until they make it to their destination. Felicity leaves, heading back toward the stern, unwilling to know how much longer she has with him. Once she reaches the table, a thick fog begins to cover the boat, enveloping her in blinding moisture. She can't see her hand in front of her face, let alone the table or anything else. __Oh no...__ "Oliver?" she shouts, her heart threatening to break out of her chest. "Oliver?"

"I'm here," he whispers from right behind her. He takes her hand and spins her around to face him, but she can't see. But she forces herself close, and he responds, somehow pulling her in, wrapping his arms around her. And then his lips are on hers and they're kissing. She has no time to panic and no time to prepare, and it is magical. Her knees go weak and it doesn't matter because he is holding her up, supporting her.

Their lips move in perfect sync together, their tongues exploring tentatively. She reaches up and cups his face in her hands, his stubble tickling her palms in the best way possible. She can feel everything, all electricity and chemistry and she's lost. Lost in his embrace and kiss. She feels it everywhere, all the way down to her toes.

When they part, the fog is gone and she can see his eyes boring into her, dark and sultry. They lure her in, causing her to kiss him again and again. __Yep. He's most definitely a warlock!__

* * *

They leave the marina and walk through the streets of downtown San Diego toward her hotel, hand-in-hand. They chat about meaningless things, their laughter carrying off the sidewalk beneath their feet. They reach the front, revolving doors of her hotel and she frowns. The end of the date is so close and she doesn't want it to stop. She wants him to come in. She wants his lips on hers. She wants other things to happen. Sexier things. But she can see he's being respectful, and somehow she loves that. "Can you walk me to my door?" she asks, knowing how silly the question sounds.

"Of course," he answers, grinning like a fool. They enter the hotel and head for the elevator, ignoring the stares and mumbled interest from the night staff. Oliver presses the button and all too quickly the elevator doors open and they are stepping in. Once they close once more and he presses the button for her floor, he moves in. He grasps her face and pulls her forward, into him. Their lips meet and, once again, she feels the fire and sparks everywhere. He loses his balance and soon they are pressed against the elevator wall. She glances sideways and clicks the button to stop the elevator. She knows it will signal the staff. She knows there are cameras watching them. But she doesn't care. She wants the moment to last a little longer.

His hands trail down her cheeks and to her neck, then even farther until they are at her waist and his fingers are toying with the hem of her shirt. She reaches into his jacket, burying her hands inside, relishing the warmth as he lets a hand slip beneath her shirt, drawing spirals on the skin at her waist. Their tongues dance and explore, causing her to pull him closer. He growls into her mouth and she sighs. __Am I up for elevator sex?__ Before she can answer her own question, the elevator begins moving once more and he backs away, keeping his eyes on her as he leans against the opposite wall. He smiles and she smiles back, blushing slightly.

The doors open and he takes her hand, leading her to her room. Once they arrive at her threshold, she digs her key out of her purse and unlocks the door, hesitating before entering the room. She turns around, her lips sliding into a frown.

"I hope you enjoyed the date," he says, pressing a light kiss onto her forehead. "And I really hope you enjoy the script."

She nods, reaching out to caress his cheek. He leans into her touch. "I'm sure I will."

"Good night, Felicity Smoak," he says with a wink. And then he's walking away and she's closing the door, longing for his lips to brush hers again.

Once the door clicks shut and she turns the lock, Felicity runs into the room and jumps onto the bed, giggling like a madwoman. On her bedside table is the script, mysterious and inviting. But she stays away from it, knowing she needs to get into a more serious mindset to begin reading. She turns onto her back and digs her phone out of her purse. She looks at the lockscreen to find a message from Caitlin.

 ** **Caitlin: HOW WAS THE DATE!? GIVE ME ALL OF THE DETAILS!****

 _ _-10:47pm__

Felicity types a quick response, then tosses her phone aside.

 ** **Me: Too perfect for words. And I now have a script to read.****

 _ _-11:53pm__

She changes into her pajamas and removes her makeup, then brushes her teeth. She grabs a bottle of water out of the hotel room fridge and then snuggles into bed, fluffing the multiple pillows. Once she's comfortable, she grabs the script and eyes the title excitedly.

 _ _From Darkness Into Light__

With a deep breath, she opens it and begins reading, instantly sucked in.


	6. Scripts, Bowling and A Shared Muffin

Felicity marvels at the brilliance of the script. The action. The intrigue. The romance. The emotion so evident in the pages, pouring out and rooting deeply in her heart. Everything jumps out at her and sends her reeling. She imagines herself in the scenes, portraying a woman who starts out violated and alone and then becomes the strongest character in the story. She imagines Oliver portraying the male lead, a leader in a foreign mob who lets his morals get in the way of his duty when he meets her.

It doesn't take her long to read the script through once, and by the end she is bawling, her hands shaking and nose running and heart thudding against her chest. She's never felt so strongly about a story before, and yet she's sobbing amongst the plush blankets and pillows of her hotel room bed, hoping for some form of comfort. __He could have warned me it was gonna be devastating.__

Without hesitation, she pulls out her phone, ignoring the late hour and how she'll most likely wake him up. She types the message quickly, trying to blink away the onrush of tears that keeps coming.

 ** **Me: You could have at least warned me!****

 _ _-2:23am__

She picks up the script once more and grabs a red pen and starts underlining dialogue and cues and directions, all of them inciting a desperate need to be part of the production. To portray Ana. For Oliver to portray Peter. For them to fall away as the characters take control in each scene.

As she finishes underlining one of the most intense lines of dialogue in the script, his message comes through.

 ** **Oliver Queen: It's amazing, right?****

 _ _-2:27am__

She smiles at his clear love for the story. She types her message and sends it, then takes her bottle of water and gulps down nearly half.

 ** **Me: I didn't expect to cry.****

 _ _-2:28am__

She caps the bottle just as his response comes through.

 ** **Oliver Queen: If it makes you feel any better, the ending made me cry too.****

 _ _-2:29am__

 ** **Me: Uber-masculine Oliver Queen cried while reading a script? I'm shocked.****

 _ _-2:29am__

She jumps out of bed and stretches, her legs stiff from staying in one position reading for so long. She goes to the bathroom, then washes her hands before running back to the bed, finding Oliver's latest text completely ignoring her teasing.

 ** **Oliver Queen: So are you in?****

 _ _-2:31am__

She eyes the message, her heart starting to pound. Something about his intensity for the project and his adamance about her being part of it touches a part of her anxiety. __Pull it together, Smoak. Seriously. You're a professional!__ But her heart isn't listening to her head. She types her message with trembling thumbs.

 ** **Me: I'm gonna tell me agent yes in the morning. :)****

 _ _-2:38am__

She collapses back onto her pillows and covers her face with her hands, the excitement and anxiety of her decision sinking in. Dozens of thoughts swirl through her head, but one keeps bombarding her, making her wonder what he's thinking.

"He's gonna think I want this part so I can be in all those love scenes with him," she blurts out, feeling her cheeks burning with a horrific blush as she thinks about their kiss. She recalls his assurance that they would not have sex on the first date, that he was much more respectful than that. But his lips told a different story. His lips said that he would easily have broken that rule, right there in that elevator. "Can I film a love scene with him without it getting out of hand?" she asks herself, shaking her head. "Well, too late to back out now. I already told him yes."

As she buries herself under the covers and turns out the lights, her phone goes off again. She checks the message and smiles, then turns onto her side and attempts to fall asleep with his words lingering behind her eyelids.

 ** **Oliver Queen: You have no idea how happy this makes me.****

 _ _-2:42am__

* * *

She wakes up feeling groggy and regrets binge-reading the script so late. She has a busy day ahead of her and she hasn't even picked out her outfit. She slowly leaves the bed, her eyes sliding over the script and she feels that anxiety again, reminding her of the date and his words and everything else that has happened over the last few days. She grabs her phone and dials her agent's number. He answers on the first ring.

"I'm assuming you've read the script then?" he asks, his voice full of excitement.

"I have, Cisco," she answers, her voice still scratchy and hoarse from sleep. She clears her throat as Cisco chuckles.

"And…?"

"And I have to take it."

"I knew you'd say yes," he exclaims. "And it is clear from your panels together that you and Oliver Queen have some major chemistry. I'm really feeling it."

She keeps her lips tight and sealed, knowing he can't know they went on a date.

"And with the photos that have been going around of the two of you, it is clear you think you have chemistry too."

Her mouth drops open. "Photos? What photos?"

"You don't know?"

"Cisco, please," she groans. "I just woke up. What photos?"

"Photos of the two of you holding hands in the lobby of your hotel and then getting into the elevator. It's clear nothing happened, since he was back in the lobby about ten minutes later, but the internet is losing its shit right now over it."

She closes her eyes and sees Oliver's face and his lips, so perfect and soft and tasty. She shakes her head. __Snap out of it!__

"The internet is already trying to come up with a name for the two of you. I personally think you should be called Foliver."

She laughs, unable to help it. "Seriously, Cisco, you need to get better with the name creations." She listens to him ramble on about the script and all the logistics as she attempts to wake up. Finally she finds a way to interrupt. "I have a lot to do today, Cisco. I gotta go."

"Tell Chris Hardwick I say __hi__!"

She nods, then rolls her eyes. __He can't see you.__ "Will do," she says, then hangs up. She tosses the phone onto the bed and then rushes to her clothes, digging through the multitude of options until she finds the perfect pairing: mint green jeans and a black and white patterned top. She already knows the sandals she wants to pair with them. Then she grabs one of her favorite watches, which she wore to the Nerd HQ panel and then she searches for a necklace. As she rummages through her collection, one keeps popping out at her, demanding to be chosen.

She eyes the little handmade creation, one of her favorite Etsy buys and nods. "That is… accurate." She grabs it and then goes to change. When she hangs it around her neck, she knows it all works perfectly. She rubs the pendant, reciting the words like a mantra. "I can't even."

* * *

She can't believe she's in the private bowling alley to film Chris Hardwick's __All-Star Celebrity Bowling__. She's standing beside Roy and the producer of her show, greeting all of Team Nerdist. She's met Chris Hardwick numerous times at numerous cons, but she can't believe she's standing in front of Felicia Day, Jonah Ray and Wil Wheaton. They are all joking, as if they've been friends for years. __Duh… because they__ have _ _been friends for years.__ She looks down at her hands to find them trembling.

Felicia smiles and pats her on the shoulder, noticing her nervousness. "Don't worry about anything. Just be yourself."

Felicity laughs. "That'd be easier if there were someone on your team that sucks at bowling as much as I do. What happened to Matt Mira?"

Everyone joins in her laughter and Chris Hardwick grins. "There's only so much fail this team can handle. And we've hit the max."

Roy looks around, brows raised in confusion. "What happened to Iris?"

Felicity nods. "Yeah, I thought she was gonna be on our team?"

Their producer shakes his head. "Well, she decided she didn't want to deal with bowling. She said that every time she goes bowling, it reminds her of Eddie."

Felicity frowns. Iris had been in such a dark place throughout filming of season two. Her fiancé had passed away at the beginning of the filming schedule. She never spoke about how he died, but all she ever let slip was that he was a hero. Her hero. But she always talked about how one of their first dates had been cosmic bowling and how she was always so much better than him, but he didn't mind. He enjoyed it because she did. "Well, if Iris isn't part of the team, who is?"

Their producer grins like a fool. "Well… It will be somewhat of a shock."

"It's me."

The voice behind her sends waves of excitement, anxiety and complete happiness roiling through her veins, tingling into her toes. She turns to see Oliver and he winks, that wink she fears might kill her if he continues to use it with such ease and abandon.

"How do you keep worming your way into all of my appearances?" she asks, fidgeting with the zippers on her pants' pockets.

"If I recall," Oliver begins, smirking like he owns the world. __He might as well…__ "You crashed __my__ Nerd HQ conversation."

"What about my panel?" She glances over at Roy and he nods, clearly enjoying the back and forth banter and flirtation as much as Team Nerdist. Chris Hardwick is smiling and Wil Wheaton is trying not to laugh. Felicia Day is casting glances between her and Oliver while Jonah Ray just rolls his eyes.

Oliver chuckles. "I simply attended as part of the audience and decided to ask a question. Nothing wrong with that, as far as I'm concerned."

She nods slightly, hating to admit that she has no comebacks or further accusations. Everyone stands in silence for a few moments until Wil Wheaton clears his throat. "Let's get this over with. Just know that Team Nerdist is totally gonna kick your team's ass!"

* * *

In a shocking turn of events, Team Nerdist loses by two points, sending Chris Hardwick into an uproar and Wil Wheaton into uncharacteristic humbleness. The single game they had played took three hours to end thanks to constant filming necessities; interviews and jokes being almost as important as the game itself. And the whole time, Oliver remained close to Felicity's side, rooting her on and antagonizing Wil Wheaton with a familiarity that Felicity wished she had.

As they leave, Chris Hardwick pulls Felicity aside with a bright grin on his face. "I think this episode will be the best yet. You guys clearly need to be on screen together more often," he whispers, wagging his eyebrows like a fool.

She chuckles. "Well, I can say that my agent is definitely working on that."

"Awesome. Would you be willing to join us on the podcast soon?"

She's always wanted to be on the Nerdist Podcast, and Chris Hardwick always says how much he wants her on, but nothing ever comes of the comments. She nods. "Of course! You know I want to!"

"We'll be in touch!"

As Felicity leaves the bowling alley, she rolls her eyes. __Which basically means 'see you at the next con!'__

The bright San Diego afternoon greets her and she waits for her lenses to transition with the sunlight. Once they shield her eyes, she begins walking along, admiring the shops and cafes in this part of downtown.

"Felicity, wait!"

She turns to see Oliver chasing after her, his green and purple button up shirt fanning out with his pace, showing off his muscles beneath the tightness of his white v-neck. She forces herself to look up to his smiling face. "What's up?" she asks as he comes to a stop in front of her.

"Would you like to get some coffee and discuss the script?"

The question doesn't surprise her. After a few moments of feigned contemplation, she nods. "Sure."

"Fantastic!" Oliver exclaims, and she can't help but laugh. His enthusiasm for the project is so palpable that she can't deny her own growing excitement.

They walk for a while, hand-in-hand, enjoying the warm summer afternoon and one another's company. She tries not to think too much, for fear of blurting out her inner thoughts, but she fails miserably. Innuendos flood out, assaulting the easy way they interact and making everything awkward. But Oliver clearly doesn't mind.

"I find it adorable, actually," he admits after she speaks thoughts involuntarily for the hundredth time. "It makes things interesting."

"And incredibly awkward," she says, her cheeks getting warm. She wishes she could blame the summer heat but she's used to high temperatures.

They turn into a small coffee shop, the A/C unit blasting them with frigid air the moment the doors open. Oliver insists on ordering for them, admitting that there's only one thing worth ordering and she has to try it. When he orders, she chuckles at his request for plain cups of coffee and chocolate chip muffins. __Safest options, clearly.__ "You could have asked me what I like, you know," she teases, nudging him playfully as they walk to a table in the corner, away from the windows.

"I could have, but I want our conversation to be the most important part of this date, not the food or drinks."

"This is a date?"

"Well… I mean, I figured it could double as a work meeting and a date." He leaned forward, over the table, his eyes closing as his lips near hers. She follows, crossing the small distance to allow their mouths to meet. The contact sends her body reeling. She wants so much more but nothing else all at once. She wants his hands all over her and yet she wants his hands simply to trace the line of her jaw… only her jaw. Everything is so jumbled.

When they break apart, it is only for the barista to bring their order. Two coffees. One chocolate chip muffin. "Oh… So we're sharing this muffin?"

He grins. "Is that a problem?" he asks as he pulls a small chunk apart and holds it to her lips. She lets him drop it into her mouth, his thumb grazing her bottom lip lightly, sending tingles up and down her spine.

"No," she murmurs once she swallows the bite. "Not a problem."

They drink their coffee and nibble on bits of muffin, silence resting between them. They glance up at one another on occasion, each moment of eye contact speaking volumes. She's lost all of her nervousness and she feels completely normal, as if his star status doesn't exist and they are just ordinary human beings enjoying a light snack.

"Don't you have appearances to make at Comic-Con?" she finally asks, reaching out and taking his hand.

He rubs his thumb over her hand and smiles. "Not until later," he says. "I wanted to talk to you about the script. How did you like it, really?"

She takes a deep breath and then lets the words spill out. "It was amazing. I don't remember the last time I read anything that made me feel so much. I'm a huge bookworm and I haven't read a book, even, that made me feel the emotions I felt while reading that script." She catches her breath and continues. "I don't wanna seem crazy or anything, but I really have to play that part. I have to play Ana."

His smile widens at this proclamation and Felicity's heart leaps. __How can one smile from one man make me feel like this?__

"Felicity," he says, and her tummy flutters at the sound of her name on his lips. "There's no one else I want to play Ana except you. The writers and director know this."

"Really?"

He nods. "Oh yes. I was very adamant about this. I read the script on the plane here and I loved it. Then I sat next to you at that panel and, I don't know. I just knew you had to be Ana. I called the director right away and told him. He seemed a little skeptical, but I had him send me a copy of the script to give to you."

"It happened that fast?"

He laughs. "Like I said, I don't know. It just seemed right." He watches her for a few minutes and then squeezes her hand. "What was your favorite scene?"

Her eyes widen at the question. She turns it over in her head, pairing it with all the scenes she felt so strongly about. She tosses aside the love scenes, knowing that mentioning those would make her seem creepy and needy and possessive. __Maybe he likes that…?__ She frowns slightly and glances up at him, checking to be sure she hadn't said anything out loud. He shows no emotions besides interest in her looming answer. She lets the rest of the scenes rush through, scanning each one and pulling out lines that show everything in just a few words. Finally, the scenes hit her and she smiles.

"I have two favorites," she begins, looking into his eyes to find them bright with anticipation. "The first would be the moment Peter decides to save Ana. He sees her lying in that shipping crate, half-naked and starving, the bruises all over her body. Her begging him and him deciding to forfeit everything he's built to save her. So powerful. And him carrying her out while also kicking major mob ass… so sexy."

As she takes a breath, Oliver chuckles and nods. "That's the moment the script had me hooked."

She moves on. "My absolute favorite scene, though, would have to be when Ana is tending to Peter's wounds. He's just saved her life for the umpteenth time and he's critically injured and delirious and speaking total nonsense. She talks him through it and keeps him alive. Then they kiss for the first time. Initiated by her. That's the moment they realize they are in love and it is so beautiful."

He stares at her, his mouth slightly ajar in surprise. He shakes his head a little and then lets out a breathy chuckle. "That's… that's the scene that came to mind when we were at that panel together."

Felicity looks up, her turn to feel surprised. "What?"

"That's the scene that I imagined when we were sitting together at that panel. It's probably one of the most beautiful scenes I've ever read in a script."

Silences falls between them, both clearly imagining themselves in the roles. After a few moments, Oliver looks at his watch and frowns. "We should probably get going."

"Stardom beckons?" she asks, sadly. Without any hesitation, she would stay in this coffee shop with Oliver for an eternity, talking scripts and life and anything else worth talking about. But the world they live in moves too fast, catapulted by interviews and publicity and filming schedules so arduous that some people lose their minds in the process. She looks into Oliver's eyes to see all of this mirrored there in those gorgeous blue depths.

"Yes, unfortunately."


	7. Evasion, Interruptions & A Farewell

As they near the convention center, they part ways. Felicity smiles as Oliver leans in to plant a gentle kiss onto her cheek and then watches him leave, his posture and stride exuding confidence and something else she can't quite put her finger on. She waits for a few minutes and then makes her way inside and toward the room designated for press interviews. __I just wanna go to the exhibit hall…__ she complains inwardly as a reporter begins the usual round of questioning.

"What can we look forward to for season three?"

Felicity grins, attempting to showcase enthusiasm she isn't completely feeling. "Well, I can promise some more sinister villains and some major character development for my character. It isn't easy fighting crime, and she is definitely going to feel the stress of it all."

The reporter nods and then glances at her notes. She looks up with a bright glint in her eye. "So, Oliver Queen seems to be __very__ interested in making an appearance on your show. Do you think it'll actually happen?"

Felicity sighs. __How many times must I answer this question…?__ "Oliver Queen is very interested in making a cameo, but the producers haven't set anything in stone or figured out the logistics of it. If it is possible, it will definitely happen. That's all I can say."

The reporter frowns but moves on, tackling more specific questions about the show and its success. Eventually Roy appears, taking on some of the question load.

"Do you think your character will ever make it out of the friendzone?" the reporter teases Roy. He responds with a chuckle and a mischievous wink to Felicity. She giggles.

"Well, if Oliver Queen makes an appearance on the show in any capacity, I think my character's chances are slim to none."

"Oh please," Felicity says, slapping Roy playfully on the arm. "Our characters are meant to be."

The reporter pounces. "Speaking of __meant to be__ , can you comment on the photos that surfaced of you and Oliver Queen in the lobby of your hotel?"

Felicity's smile fades and she stares at the reporter, finding her grin completely fake, plastered on to appear friendly and inviting in order to garner the best responses. Felicity wants to punch the expression right off her face, knowing the caked on make-up would smudge and she might see the real woman beneath. She clenches her fists behind her back and retrieves the lost smile, plastering it on in the same fashion as the reporter, and hating every second.

"He was walking me to my door after dinner," she responds as pleasantly as possible.

Her answer isn't enough for the reporter. "You were holding hands."

Felicity's balled fists tighten, her nails sinking into her palms. She loosens them slightly at Roy's cautionary clearing of the throat. __Don't act like a bitch. Be honest, but say as little as possible. No word vomit!__ "Yes, we were," she answers. "It was a date. A wonderful date discussing possible collaborations and getting to know one another."

"Would you care to elaborate?"

Felicity shakes her head, finally drawing a line in the stardom sand. "No, I'd much prefer to discuss the show. That's why I'm here, after all. All I'll say is that Oliver Queen is a wonderful man and very talented, and I hope to work with him in the future."

* * *

After an hour and a half, Felicity leaves the press room feeling bogged down. So many questions and so many accusations, all of them surrounding her relationship to Oliver Queen. It all feels overwhelming, but somehow, she feels protective. She knows they will always be in the spotlight, even when they aren't looking to be, and she understands it… accepts it. But she's protective of their time together, the moments they've shared. __Only reveal as much as you're willing to.__ She never thought she would have to evade questions or skirt around issues. But the reporter today reminded her of the frustrating truth: life in the spotlight isn't easy, and no matter how hard you try, you'll always have your privacy invaded.

Interacting with Oliver Queen has taken her out of the lowly television bubble she has resided in and thrust her into the high profile world he lives in. And while it is scary and unfamiliar and a total burden, she's not afraid to move forward. She wants to enjoy her time with Oliver, regardless of the potential paparazzos lurking in the shadows to snap photos. She wants to get to know him better. And, most of all, she wants to work on that film. With him.

She never put much stock in moving forward in her career. She loves her show and loves her fellow cast members. But the script is still speaking to her, running through her mind at every free interval and sinking into her bones. She wants the role. She wants that challenge. She wants that chance.

She fights her way through the crowds in the exhibit hall, stopping every so often to sign autographs and take photos. She passes fully costumed patrons and smiles. _ _I wonder if any of them are celebrities trying to hide in plain sight.__

She finds a booth that looks promising. A gaming booth with multiple games to try out. She finds one. A dungeon crawler on steroids. One of the hardest games on the market today. She's wanted to try it for months but hasn't had the time. She picks up one of the controllers and begins building a character, picking weapons and hair color and body type, ignoring the people gathering around to watch her play.

The game begins and she's instantly fighting demons and monsters, unsure of the controls or purpose of randomly discovered items. But she doesn't care. She is enthralled, the outside world gone as she makes her way through the decrepit landscapes, hacking away at enemies as they jump out from the shadows. __Kind of like the paparazzi…__ she thinks sarcastically.

She batters the enemies, driving them away and slaying each one with relative ease. She wonders why so many people complain about the difficulty of the game. It seems rather simple to her. Until she reaches the first boss. The people watching her begin to fidget and she feels her palms beginning to sweat as she dodges the gigantic monster, trying her best to remain at full health. She attacks, her level one abilities so far below the abilities of her opponent.

Her eyes are glued to the screen, but she can see the nervous people watching in her periphery. She almost loses all of her health with one swipe of the monster's talons and she quickly ignores those around her, narrowing her gaze -her world- to herself and the screen. She uses a health potion and restores the bar to full, dodging as it fills. Her fingers dance over the controller, reminding her of the years she spent in college learning coding and software security. She had been praised for her fast keyboard skills; all of her professors marveled at her speed, all proclaiming her the most advanced of all their students. In gaming, speed and precision was key. __Perhaps I should have become a professional gamer…__

The boss still has half its health when a pair of hands tickle her sides, causing her to shriek and drop the controller. She glances to the side to see Oliver's face close to hers, grinning like a child, his sneak attack successful. Felicity looks back at the screen to find her character collapsing onto the ground as the health bar depletes. The scene fades to black and red words replace it: You Died. She frowns, then slaps Oliver on the arm. "Damn it, Oliver!"

Around them people are laughing and taking photos of them. She ignores them and focuses her attention on the man before her. The man she never imagined meeting. The man she certainly never imagined kissing. For a moment, her eyes drift down to his smiling mouth, so kissable. __This is not the time, Smoak! He made you die!__

"You made me die, Oliver."

He chuckles. "You look pretty alive to me." The crowd around them laughs, the photos and videos still capturing their interaction.

"You made me die __in-game__ ," she clarifies, pointing to the proclamation on the screen. Oliver follows her gesture and chuckles some more. "This is not funny. I was doing so well. I hadn't died once!"

His eyes are full of amusement and something else Felicity can't quite put into words. It is as if he feels slightly guilty for ruining her run. He allows his lips to slump into a frown, almost a pout, and then reaches out for her hand. For a moment she denies him, but the desire to feel his warmth overwhelms her and she gives in. As soon as her hand is engulfed in his, her annoyance is gone. __Yep… he is most definitely, one hundred percent, a warlock! Too much charm to be just your average human.__

They leave the booth and the crowd, cutting out of the exhibit hall and into a closed hallway. It is designated for event staff and, apparently, A-List celebrities. They walk a few paces and then he stops, tugging her back as she tries to continue on. The force of his pull slams her into his chest and she is immediately aware of the electricity sparking between them. She looks up to see his lips parted and she doesn't hesitate.

Within moments they are kissing and Oliver is pushing her up against the wall. The hallway is abandoned, and Felicity wonders if he paid the staff off, allowing for a secluded spot to sneak to. __Another rendezvous…__ she thinks with a jolt of excitement.

Like in the elevator, Oliver plays with the hem of her shirt, every so often tracing a pattern on her skin. The slight contact sends shivers up and down her spine and drives her crazy. She can't keep her hands away. She lifts the bottom of his shirt and feels the tight muscles of his abs, following each line and ridge, sending goosebumps across his skin with her touch. All the while their lips are locked, moving in perfect synchrony and their tongues dance together, testing and dueling to map the path of the other.

His hand slides up, higher into the depths of her shirt, charting the skin stretched across her ribs and stomach. The contact sends her mind reeling and a quiet moan to escape her mouth, muted by his lips. She can feel him smiling. He breaks away for a moment and she opens her eyes to see his bright in the moment. "I'm sorry I made you die," he teases, his voice low and husky. So sexy.

Felicity shakes her head. "I don't really care anymore," she admits, scraping her nails against the skin of his abs. He closes his eyes and growls. _ _How can growling be so sexy!?__

He grasps her wrist, stopping her from repeating the action. She looks him in the eye, challenging, but he shakes his head. "As much as I enjoy that," he begins. "I'd rather not take this any further. At least, not when we're in a hallway at a convention center full of greedy, unethical paparazzos."

After a moment of consideration, Felicity nods with a frown. "I suppose you're right." But before she takes a step away from the wall, she trails her fingers up his abs to his chest, feeling his heart pounding and the warmth of his skin is intoxicating. She extricates her hand from the confines of his shirt and then steps aside, still leaning against the wall. He looms over her, his arm braced against the wall. So suave and arrogant and infuriating.

"Would you want to attend the farewell party with me?"

She raises an eyebrow, re-positioning her glasses before looking him in the eye. "Farewell party?"

"There's a huge party happening tonight. Loads of celebrities and media gurus and all the convention higher-ups. Basically the finale of the convention."

She watches as his face goes from confident to unsure in a matter of moments in response to her silence. She leaves him to stew in that uncertainty for a little bit, savoring her influence over him. Finally, when she can see he's losing patience, she moves forward and plants a kiss just below his lips, right on a mole that has begged so desperately to be kissed. As she pulls away, she nods. "Sure," she says.

He grins like a fool, all nervousness dissipating with her answer. "Fantastic," he murmurs, pulling her in for a hug. "I'll pick you up at eight."

* * *

For once she is grateful for her mother's insistence in not packing light. The habit had latched onto Felicity early on, back in her college years. She learned that there was always a chance that you might need something, and she was careful to be prepared for every possible scenario. __Thanks, mom,__ she thinks as she pulls out a dress she had packed on a whim. A black and gold fit-and-flare. As she holds it up against her in front of the mirror, she knows the perfect shoes to pair it with: the Valentino studded stilettos she had sported at her show's panel. She scoffs at the celebrities who never wear the same pieces twice, finding that sort of obsession extremely materialistic. Those heels are one of her favorites, and she'll wear them as often as possible. __Fashion laws be damned…__

As she's curling her hair, her phone buzzes on the counter. She looks down to see the caller I.D. showcasing her mother's smiling face. She sets the curling iron aside and answers it.

"Hey, Mom!"

Without a greeting or any other form of preamble, her mother blurts out: "Why didn't you tell me you are dating Oliver Queen?"

Felicity's mouth falls open. "Uh… what?"

"Don't act like you're not, Felicity Megan Smoak," her mother scolds. "It is all over entertainment news right now!"

She rushes out into the room and turns the television on, surfing through the channels until she finds one of the nighttime entertainment news shows. They are discussing Oliver Queen's sudden interest in Felicity Smoak, complete with photos of their final minutes in her hotel lobby and even their kiss in the cafe earlier today. She closes her eyes and counts to three, trying to keep calm.

"Felicity, when were you going to tell me?"

"Well," Felicity begins, letting her words carefully build up before she lets them out. "I hadn't really considered us dating, per se."

"You're kissing __Oliver Queen__ on a regular basis and you don't consider it dating?" When she doesn't answer, her mother continues. "They are showing an interview with you where you said you went on a date with him. Felicity, honey… have you two had sex?"

"Oh my god."

"Honey, if you have, well… I want details." Before Felicity can protest, her mother begins an embarrassing tirade. "He seems so gorgeous and strong. Is he… uh… well… __well-endowed__? He seems like he would be."

She's pacing the room, keeping her eyes away from the television and the nightmare publicity her new relationship is garnering. "Mom, we haven't had sex. We've kissed… a lot. But that's it."

"Are you sure?"

Felicity lets out a laugh. "Yes, Mom. I'm sure I haven't had sex with Oliver Queen." She glances at the screen, finding it filled with the photo of them at the cafe. Oliver is leaning over the table to kiss her. The scene is so perfectly lit, as if from a movie. A romantic comedy. _ _Yes,__ she decides. _ _If that were from a movie, it would be a romantic comedy. Too perfect to be real.__ But it is real. She has to remind herself of that.

"Felicity, you have to tell me if things get that serious."

Felicity nods. "Well, I think it might be. He gave me a script for a film he wants me to co-star in with him."

"How romantic!" her mother exclaims, her voice high and sing-song. "Are you gonna do it?"

"Yes," she says, then looks at the time. __7:35pm__. She rushes back into the bathroom and looks into the mirror. Only one side of her hair is curled. "Mom, I have to go. I'm running really late for a party! I'll be home for a few days starting tomorrow afternoon!"

They hang up and Felicity lets out a long breath. Her mother is a handful, but she adores her. She can't wait to get back to her childhood home to spend some time there before filming. It will give her time to assess the new developments in her life. She places the phone of the counter and gets back to work on her hair, turning it into a collection of golden spirals. Once she's done, she puts in her contacts and begins lining her eyelids with liquid liner, forming a perfect and simple cat-eye. Once that is done, she digs through her make-up bag and finds her favorite red lipstick and applies it.

She looks in the mirror at herself. She hasn't slipped into her dress yet; she's standing in her underwear, her hair and make-up perfect and her ears adorned with plain black and gold studs to match her shoes. She looks down at her hands and decides she needs a ring. She goes out and begins to dig through her collection of jewelry. Finally, she finds the gold arrow ring and slides it onto her finger. With that done, she steps into her dress and then buckles her heels. She glances at her reflection in the mirror once more to find herself way more put-together than she imagined she would be.

Satisfied with the outcome, she goes to the door and opens it to find Oliver standing there, hand raised in preparation to knock. His eyes are wide with surprise as he lowers his hand and looks her over. She does the same, admiring his gorgeous suit. Beneath the black jacket she can see a pair of suspenders and her mouth grows dry, unable to keep naughty thoughts from overtaking her. She closes her eyes and counts to three in an attempt to keep herself from throwing her body against his.

"Hi," he murmurs. She opens her eyes to see him smiling.

His smile is contagious, causing her to return it without hesitation. He leans in and gives her a small peck on the lips, but he lingers there as if deciding whether to take it further.

It would be easy to do so. To take it further. To take the small step through her door and into her bedroom. There are no prying eyes here, no greedy paparazzos or insidious reporters. There are no fans to gawk at them or fellow celebrities to mingle with. Just the two of them and a room. And a bed.

She watches as Oliver looks behind her at the room, indecision obvious in the blue endlessness of his eyes. Suddenly he sighs and leans back slightly. "What?" she asks.

He chuckles. "This is so tempting."

"What is?" she asks, coyly.

"You and me, that room… that bed."

She looks away, feigning shyness. "I don't know what you mean." __No word vomit or unintentional thought expulsion! Be sexy and playful!__

Oliver leans forward once more, letting his lips graze the line of her jaw for a moment before reaching her ear. "It would be so easy to go in there and forget about the party."

She lets her hands sink inside his jacket and she finds the suspenders and tugs, bringing him closer to her, letting their bodies rub together for a moment. He lets out a growl and she smiles. "I'm sure someone would miss us," she says, pushing him away and closing her door. He closes his eyes for a moment, clearly experiencing some mixture of disappointment and relief.

She begins walking, allowing him the opportunity to watch her walk away, confident and in control, him clearly wrapped around her finger like the arrow ring she's wearing.

* * *

They arrive to a loud and glamorous ballroom in one of the fanciest hotels in the city, Oliver's fingers intertwined with hers. The room is scattered with fairy lights and candles and crystals galore. Felicity marvels at the splendor, taking it all in and enjoying the fact that her life involves attending such parties. The music is thunderous in the room, mixing with the conversation and general excitement of the event. A dance floor is framed with lights hanging down from the ceiling like the drooping leaves of a willow, but no one has filled it. The overall lighting is dim, relying on the flickering flames and tiny beams to fill the space.

Oliver leads them to a small table in a darkened corner. He pulls out a chair for her and she sits, crossing her legs and looking around, finding familiar faces everywhere; people she's met and people she's admired from afar mingling in the same room. Within moments, they are joined by John Diggle and his wife Lyla. They are experts at remaining out of the tabloids, never gracing covers or even being included in gossip. __Perhaps I should ask them for advice,__ Felicity thinks, smiling to herself as she watches how gentle and attentive Diggle is with Lyla, the epitome of dream husband. __No wonder so many people use them as the example of their personal relationship goals.__ Felicity has seen the multitude of memes online proclaiming them the ultimate couple.

"So this weekend has been a whirlwind for you, huh?" Diggle asks her, jolting her out of her mind-babbles.

She nods. "Definitely. That might actually be an understatement."

Oliver smirks at her words. "It hasn't been __that__ bad, has it?"

"I didn't say it was a bad thing…"

Oliver looks over at her, the blue in his eyes dancing with the scattered candles. The thoughts and emotions within those depths tell her so many things. The implications in her words are clear to him. The weekend might have been full of craziness and stress, but it was well worth it. Meeting him was well worth it. She can sense relief in his posture and the wider smile that spreads across his lips.

"Well," Lyla interrupts with a polite clearing of the throat as she signals for drinks. "What's next for you?"

Felicity turns to see Lyla looking directly at her, the question hers to answer. She fumbles with words, unsure what to say. __Like, career-wise or summer-wise? What does she mean?__ She decides to go with the easiest answer, a combination of the two. "I'm going to spend time with my mom for a few days before heading back to Vancouver to start filming on the show."

"Vegas, right?"

Felicity nods. "Yeah. Born and raised in Vegas. I don't think my mom could ever leave there, so I try to visit as much as possible."

Diggle and Lyla smile, then he joins in the conversation. "No luck bettering your mom's life yet, right?"

"You have the same problem?" she asks, surprised. __I thought my mom was the only weird one.__

Diggle laughs. "Trust me, I've tried on more than one occasion to better my parents' lives, but they won't have it. They want to stay in their rundown old house in the same ancient neighborhood where they've been since I was a toddler. My dad still does all the repairs on the house. He doesn't trust anyone else to take care of it." Diggle's eyes go distant, as if recalling countless interactions with his father. Finally he glances sideways at Lyla, squeezing her hand. "I know the struggle."

"Great. The only thing my mom has allowed me to do is buy her new furniture and help her plant her garden, which is probably a jungle of weeds by now. Oh, and she had me come in and paint the entirety of the house."

Oliver laughs as a server brings them all glasses of champagne. He sips some, the amusement and humor still warming his features. Felicity frowns playfully. "Excuse me, what's so funny?"

He ceases his laughter with a gulp that finishes the entire glass. "I'm imagining you being ordered around. You seem too opinionated and firey for that."

"When your mom tells you to do something, you do it," Felicity explains, completely serious. "She fought for countless hours to push me out of her vagina, the least I can do is paint her house." Silence fills the table and Felicity closes her eyes, her cheeks quickly heating up. "This isn't the type of scenario where the word vagina is okay, is it?" When no one answers, she facepalms. "Oh my god."

Oliver's laughter returns, followed by both Diggle and Lyla's. Felicity opens her eyes and sighs as Lyla tries to speak. "I think...we're...gonna...be great…friends," she says between bursts of hilarity.

Felicity watches as Oliver and Diggle exchange a look which says: "This is __not__ good."

They drink their champagne in silence, occasionally chatting about nothing in particular. The music continues, but still no one is dancing. Felicity eyes the dance floor with longing, wondering why no one is out there.

"Hello, party people!" a voice exclaims from behind her. She swivels in her chair to find Roy carrying a tray of shots. "Anyone up for some real refreshments?"

Without hesitation, Lyla grabs two glasses and hands one to her husband. He eyes it warily and this causes Lyla to pout. "How often do we let loose?" she asks. When he doesn't answer right away, she lets out a puff of annoyance. "Exactly. Drink!"

Everyone takes one, quickly clinking glasses before downing the liquid fire, officially starting the party.

* * *

It doesn't take long for the entire room to become a drunken cluster of bumbling fame. Felicity evenly pairs the liquor with glasses of water, keeping herself alert and hydrated. She notices Oliver does the same. There's no press in the party, giving everyone in the room so much more freedom. She watches as Lyla and Diggle go from perfectly put-together to perfectly smashed, chatting loudly and in clipped, broken sentences. But they are adorable, truly enjoying themselves.

Finally the dance floor begins to fill with celebrities, all of them drunk or high. After a while, she feels Oliver lean in, his lips lingering at her ear to send shivers up and down her spine and goosebumps to rise on her flesh. "Wanna dance?"

Without a second thought, she nods and he's grasping her hand and leading her out onto the floor. Her only thought is how she wants to grasp his suspenders but, much like her earlier vagina comment, it seems inappropriate.

The crowd, once sophisticated and the epitome of Comic-Con royalty, is now rowdy, downing every glass of champagne and liquor they can find. Felicity watches as the cast of __Hannibal__ dance in a circle, sans the famous Tumblr flower crowns. The two lead stars are smiling and bobbing their heads to the beat of the song, so unlike their characters. In another group, Jensen Ackles and Misha Collins are awkwardly shaking their asses, Misha completely straight-faced as always. Felicity has interacted with them on more than one occasion while filming alongside __Supernatural__ in Vancouver. They are her buddies, her guides in the world of CW television. Misha sees her and waves enthusiastically, and she returns the gesture before finally coming to the center of the dance floor.

She looks up at Oliver to find him looking very uneasy. "Are you okay?" she asks, leaning in to whisper the words up into his ear.

He nods, but she can see in his eyes that he would prefer to be back at the table. But Roy and Lyla and Diggle have already ventured out onto the floor. Roy is flailing about with one of their co-stars, Lily, while her boyfriend watches from the sidelines looking annoyed but clearly not threatened despite rumors that had spread about his girlfriend and Roy.

"You don't like to dance, do you?"

He shakes his head with a grin, caught in his lie. "I hate it."

"Then why ask me to dance?"

He pulls her closer and begins to move them to the fast-paced beat of the music. "Because I could tell you wanted to."

She drops the subject, just happy to have an excuse for him to touch her. They get lost in the song, moving well together no matter how awkward they feel. The music is fun and carefree and so perfect for the party's attendees. Without the threat of paparazzi and reporters, the entire room has been given a gift. They can be themselves if they don't normally allow themselves to be. Felicity smiles at this. She wishes celebrities were given that opportunity more often.

Suddenly the music slows down. The bodies on the dance floor slowly disperse, leaving only couples. Oliver brings her as close as he can, causing her tummy to flutter. __Will I ever get used to this?__

She looks up at him, finding him gazing down at her with those gorgeous blue eyes, so full of everything he keeps locked away with brooding quiet. She can see the nervousness there, but also complete interest in her and her desires. She looks away quickly, afraid of what she might say or do if she continues to keep eye contact. And she keeps her eyes away from the hidden suspenders, knowing all too well what those will do to her weakening control. __He's so attentive,__ she thinks as she feels his thumb rubbing circles into the small of her back. __I can only imagine how sex…__ she keeps herself from finishing the thought, knowing it would break her down and leave her wanting everything all at once.

The song fades into another, just as slow and just as romantic. Oliver lifts her chin, turning her to look at him once more. She gulps down her own nerves and makes unwanted but totally wanted eye contact. And suddenly his lips are on hers. At first she doesn't respond, shocked that he would be so willing to be public with his affection. But then her emotions collapse and she's kissing him back, their bodies still swaying to the music. And time feels stopped in that moment.

All too soon, the moment is over when someone taps Felicity on the shoulder. She breaks the kiss, looking up at Oliver and rolling her eyes. Then she glances over to see Aisha Tyler looking very annoyed and very impatient.

"Felicity, you need to rein in your buddy over there." Felicity follows Aisha's pointing finger to find Roy making a fool of himself by the dessert bar. He's jabbing a finger into the chest of a guy she doesn't recognize. Covered by the loud music, she can only guess what he's saying. "He's confronting your co-star's boyfriend… and it doesn't look pretty."

"You mean Lily's boyfriend?" she asks, panic rising. Oliver's arm tightens comfortingly around her, and she's grateful for the support it gives her.

Aisha nods. "Felicity, you need to get Roy out of here. He's fucked up. And I'd rather not see a fight break out."

Felicity walks away without another word, toward the confrontation, her blood boiling. __Why did this have to happen? And when I'm with Oliver. Ugh.__

She ignores the yelling and the carelessly tossed insults, grabbing Roy by the jacket with a curt: "We're out of here." She can sense Oliver at her heels, worried and warm and, as always, caring. Roy fights to break away from her grasp, but clumsily fails, cursing repeatedly under his breath. "Shut up! You've ruined the night."

Once they are outside of the ballroom, she lets go. Roy straightens his jacket, his face tight and tense and red.

"What did you think you were doing?" Felicity asks, her heart pounding. Oliver is standing to the side, between the two of them, his face a mask of protective stoicism.

"Letting that asswipe know how much of an asswipe he is."

Felicity closes her eyes at the words, calming herself before she speaks. "Roy," she says, ignoring the desire to reach out a comforting hand. "I understand you're pissed, but if she wants to be with him, there's nothing you can do."

Roy's hands are clenched into fists and his eyes are fogging over with angry, drunken tears. "He's hurt her so many times."

She nods. "I know. Really, I know." And she does. She's had conversation upon conversation with Lily regarding her boyfriend and the constant on-and-off, uncaring relationship she's had with him. "Even if you two had something, you can't control every outcome. If she wants to be with him, you have to let her make that mistake."

He looks up, squinting against the tears. "Do you think she's making a mistake?"

Felicity shrugs. "That's not for me to decide."

They all stand together, silently. She glances at Oliver, begging him for help without saying anything and he nods. "Let's get you back to your room, bud," he says, patting Roy on the shoulder. The contact sends Roy forward and Oliver catches him, keeping him upright.

They help him out of the building and walk through downtown San Diego, the fresh coastal air clearing Roy's mind. He realizes his mistake and quickly begins pleading for forgiveness. They hush him, telling him he'll have to wait until tomorrow for that. They enter the hotel he and Felicity have been staying in and get in the elevator. He's a floor below Felicity.

They get him to his room and he goes to the bed without hesitation and collapses. They watch him for a few moments, waiting for him to move. Then they hear his soft snores.

Felicity chuckles. "I guess humiliation and regret are awfully tiring, especially when drunk."

Oliver nods and leads her out of the room, closing the door slowly behind them. "Do you want to go back to the party?" he asks as they stand outside Roy's room.

She thinks for a moment. The idea sounds wonderful. Some more dancing and flirting and drinking. But she knows she has a long drive ahead of her the next morning, and she knows her mother will have projects for her to tackle as soon as she walks into her childhood home. She shakes her head, sadly. "I think it would be best to call it a night."

They go to the elevator, holding hands. She can feel the lines on his palm, etched deep and winding. The sensation is wonderful, having his skin touching hers and she can't help it… she wonders how other bits of their skin would feel against one another. She sighs lightly, too low for him to notice as he presses the button. _ _I need to stop this…__

They board the elevator and go up one floor, the ride too short for any frisky business. And within moments they are at her door, awkwardly facing one another and the inevitable goodbye. His hand his still holding hers and he squeezes it, drawing her eyes up to his. She can tell he's dreading this; he's dreading the farewell and the long-distance and the wait for production on the film to begin. She's dreading it too.

She crosses the distance between them and plants a kiss at the corner of his mouth, then whispers against his skin: "See you on set."

She unlocks her door and enters the room, not looking back, knowing looking back will lead to rustled sheets and sweating bodies. And she's not ready for that. She doesn't want that, with him, under farewell circumstances. She closes the door and leans against it, steadying herself as an onrush of fear and loneliness cross over her. She already misses him.

After a while, she slips out of her dress and into a baggy t-shirt. She turns the bed down and crawls in. Before she shuts off the lights she glances at her phone, which she left in her room for the night. She picks it up and finds a new message that sends her heart racing and tummy fluttering in all the best ways that only Oliver Queen can cause.

 ** **Oliver Queen: I hope to see you sooner than that.****

 _ _-12:57am__


End file.
